


Some Things Can't Last Forever (Maybe We Can Be The Exception)

by buckysawsteve



Category: Supernatural
Genre: DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, HS AU, High School AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 19:04:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckysawsteve/pseuds/buckysawsteve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean said high school wouldn't change anything, who was Castiel to believe otherwise?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many many thanks to the lovely ladies who beta'd this for me. Hailey, for highlighting the crap out of this fic and telling me where things sucked and where they didn't. Heather and Christi, for going through this and making sure all my grammar mistakes and spelling where up to par. Now, every damn mistake that's left is mine and mine alone! 
> 
> Originally this was supposed to be for the dcbb but things got kind of hectic at work and in rl and I never got to editing/posting on time. So here it is, for all of you to enjoy because I am tired of it sitting in my documents, taunting me. 
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated, as are each and every one of you who takes the time to read my half assed stories! <3 
> 
> Love you all!

**Prologue**

It’s easy to get lost in the scenery as it passes you, eyes locked onto the green of the trees speeding by you on the highway. It’s easy to let your mind drift off into memories and wonder how did things get so complicated so fast? For Castiel Novak, it’s almost always the same questions, the same doubt and fear that grips him so tight it feels like he might explode. But, he can’t not think about the way things used to be, because as painful as those memories may be, they’re also the best he has. Like most things, Castiel has learned that it’s better to let certain things in, rather than push them away.

Shifting in the passenger seat, Castiel leans his forehead against the cool window and lets his mind wander. He isn’t the least bit surprised in its destination ~~\--~~   

_Dean Winchester, with his dirt stained shirt and easy grin; he has been Castiel’s best friend since grade one, when he accidentally pushed him down in the sandbox. A quick apology and a hand up later, they were as thick as thieves. Lunchtime, recesses and weekends found Castiel and Dean together, inseparable and though it was evident that the bond between them was different- unique- they were oblivious to it. Something had just clicked between them in a way things don’t normally. But, it wasn’t until fourth grade that Castiel began to notice the way his belly would warm up when he was around Dean, or the way his heart would do a silent pitter-patter whenever he tossed an arm around Castiel’s shoulders._

_After that, Castiel began to observe things about Dean he normally wouldn’t have. It was just little things at first, like the green of Dean’s eyes or the light dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks and the way he’d really laugh at something Castiel said, even if it really wasn’t that funny. Then there was the way that they were always touching, an arm or a leg – some kind of brief touch-- something that had been so normal when they were younger. It was only when Castiel realized that it wasn’t something that the other boys in his class did that he began to question it._

_Yet all it took was a lazy grin from Dean to settle the uncertainty in the pit of his stomach._

_By grade five, Dean had moved in next door with his little brother Sam and his Uncle Bobby and things changed again. It was a slow progression at first, but spectators on the sidelines caught on to it quickly enough. Surprisingly they never questioned it, just let it happen naturally._

_It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when it happened, they’d been so young, ignorant to the whispers that surrounded them, but Castiel can remember the way Dean’s hand felt wrapped around him as though it were yesterday._

_They’d been playing in Dean’s backyard, Sammy chasing falling leaves when Dean had shifted closer on the porch and Castiel swore he could feel the drum of his heart against his chest. And the rest, well it’s kinda blurry, except for the warmth of Dean’s hand around his and the way they’d sat there for what felt like hours before Bobby came out to holler that lunch was ready._

_Everything that came after just felt as natural as breathing. How was Castiel supposed to know that things would change so drastically? --_

Through the car window Castiel watches as his house comes into view, waits for that feeling that usually follows after coming home from summer vacation but there’s nothing- just this aching void that can’t be filled. It’s only the sound of the engine cutting off that really brings Castiel back to the present and unbuckling his seatbelt, he unfolds himself, and stretches lazily. He can feel the way the fading summer breeze plays over his skin and for a brief moment he lets his eyes flutter closed.

“Castiel?”

“Mmm?” He replies, eyes opening slowly.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” his mom asks, voice soft, concerned and Castiel kind of hates himself for putting it there.

“Fine,” he assures her as he pastes on the fake smile he’s perfected.

Unloading the car takes surprisingly little time and Castiel finds himself alone in his room a lot sooner than he really would have liked. He drops his bags at the foot of the bed, deciding that unpacking can wait a little while longer and pads his way slowly over to his bedroom window. How many times has he sat here, just looking out at the house next door, wishing for things to go back to the way they were? How many times did he just want to climb out the damn thing and demand answers? ~~~~

High school wasn’t supposed to change things, Dean said it wouldn’t…

_Something happened around the second week of high school and Castiel can’t even wrap his mind around what. All he knows is that one minute they were holding hands under the lunch table, sharing brief, knowing looks and the next Dean is flirting with some guy from the drama club. It happened so fast that all Castiel could do was stand by and watch it, as the ground slowly fell out from underneath him. He’d let it go, told himself it was just one time, that it meant nothing right?_

_He couldn’t have predicted how wrong he was._

One guy turned into two, quickly followed by a third and suddenly it was clear to everyone around them that Dean was playing the field—something neither of them had ever done, leaving Castiel alone to watch as the dust settled and the next guy came up to bat. Dean wasn’t exactly whoring it up, just exploring other options but it was still devastating. Castiel was no longer that person in Dean’s life and it left him feeling unbalanced, never knowing where to step and what habits to break.

_For the first time, Castiel was truly at a loss when it came to Dean. For as long as they’ve known each other, being separate has never been an option. It had always just been them, always, and then suddenly it wasn’t and Castiel’s struggling to hold onto what they used to be. Eventually, it all led up to that inevitable:_

_“We’re okay aren’t we Cas?”_

_He’d been in the middle of typing up an English essay when Dean popped the question, voice concerned. Honestly, Castiel couldn’t really be sure anymore, couldn’t focus on anything other than the blood roaring in his ears._

We’re okay aren’t we Cas?

_God… were they? All he had wanted to do is scream because he needed Dean to know exactly what he was feeling. Dean had a right to know that he couldn’t do this, couldn’t stand by and watch him with someone else. Yet despite the anger and bitterness that threatened to suffocate him, it all boiled down to what would life without Dean be like?_

_They have years of friendship, a thousand different memories, so could he really justify throwing that all out the window just because Dean didn’t want what he wanted? And how the hell was Dean supposed to know what he wanted if they never talked about it? If only he could have just gotten it out sooner: I want to be with you. But he didn’t and now….well now, he’s just got to live with the consequences._

_“Yeah,” he’d murmured, “we’re okay.”_

_Turning away from his bedroom window, Castiel grabs one of his bags room from the floor and starts unpacking. For a moment, it’s a welcomed distraction and he loses himself in it. But it doesn’t take long for that something’s missing feeling to return. He tries to ignore it, tells himself over and over again that he’s okay, really._

_But it’s a lie. It’s always been a lie._


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel

Now

“Who’s Dean dating now?” Pam asks dryly, elbowing Castiel.

Castiel sighs and answers without bothering to look up from the book he’s currently reading. “Michael Milton. He’s new, just transferred.”

Pam’s quiet for a minute and Castiel glances up at her, notices the way her lips are pressed into a tight smile. He can’t help the grin that tugs at the corner of his mouth. His friends have always been protective of him. “It’s okay Pam,” he murmurs.

“No it’s not,” Pam mutters as she plucks a chicken nugget from his tray.

Castiel bites his bottom lip nervously. Pam’s right, it’s not okay. But it’s not like he has much choice in the matter. He had learned long ago that all he would be to Dean Winchester is his best friend and he’s adjusted…or still is adjusting. He’s not sure which it is yet. He can’t just discount all the years of stolen kisses and touches and chalk it all up to _it meant nothing_. Because it had, at least to him.

 “Pam,” he says gently, waiting for her eyes to meet his. “Thank you.”

She waves him off and leans in to press a kiss to his cheek. “You deserve better.”

Castiel considers her words before shaking his head sadly, causing Pam to sigh in defeat.

“You got it bad,” she tells him and Castiel can’t argue with her.

“Since grade four,” he replies.

“You done with your food Novak?” she asks.

“Yeah.”

“What do you say we go find Charlie and see if we can convince her to skip third period?”

Castiel rolls his eyes, knows that Pam’s definition of skipping third period was ditching the rest of the day. He thinks about the homework he has piling up and the scowl his mother will give him when she finds out and quickly agrees. He’s an A+ student, always has been so it’s not like his mother can really get pissed at him.

He throws his food in the garbage before following Pam out of the cafeteria and pretends that he doesn’t feel Dean’s eyes on his retreating back.

 

~ ~ ~

 

It’s not that Castiel is intentionally avoiding Dean, really he wasn’t. Hell when it first started happening he had barely even been aware he was doing it. However it didn’t take him long to realize that it was a necessary step, vital even, not only for himself but for Dean as well. If either of them wants a real shot at happiness they were going to have to learn to be apart. It’s not easy and Castiel would be lying if he said it didn’t suck out loud, because it did. He would always be lying if he said each day it got a little easier.

It only got worse.

He’s missing a very important person in his life every time he took a step back. Guilt ate away at him, knowing that what he was doing wasn’t fair to either of them. But what else could he do? He couldn’t be the person who pined away for their best friend for the rest of his life. No. He had to put some distance between them, allow them to both branch out.

He’s very grateful to have Charlie and Pam in his life. They are his rock, his foundation when Dean couldn’t be.

Finding Charlie had been easy and convincing her to skip out on the rest of the day had been even easier. Charlie’s a rebel at heart and the best hacker that Castiel knows that’s their age, but he can tell the moment she agrees that there’s another reason she agreed to ditch. He gives her a questioning look and she shrugs her shoulders, the action itself letting him know that she’ll tell him later-- when she’s ready.

He gives her a smile as he drapes an arm around her shoulders and steers her in the direction of the exit of Lawrence High.

“Love you,” he says quietly and presses his lips to her temple.

“Love you too, Cas,” Charlie murmurs, giving him one of her radiant smiles. Castiel notices it doesn’t quite reach her eyes and he gives her an encouraging squeeze.

“So what do you losers wanna do?” Pam asks once they’re outside.

The September air is muggy, giving the illusion that summer is just approaching. The only thing giving it away is the changing of the leaves, reminding everyone that fall is in fact here. Castiel tugs at his shirt, feeling it instantly beginning to stick to his skin. This summer had been a hot one and apparently the scorching weather had decided to take up permanent residence. He’s not complaining though, not with winter right around the corner.

“Milkshakes?” Charlie suggests. 

Castiel and Pam agree immediately and make for Castiel’s car.

The car had been a gift for his seventeenth birthday, outrageous and far too expensive for his first car. His parents hadn’t wanted to get him something second hand, didn’t want to risk it being unreliable and leaving him stranded. He sighs and unlocks the doors so Pam and Charlie could slide into his Ford Escape.

Okay so it wasn’t a mustang or anything, but still.

“So,” Charlie says once everyone’s buckled up and Castiel is pulling out of the parking lot. “Are we going to talk about Dean’s new beau?”

Castiel groans.

“Yes,” Pam exclaims with a smirk and a tiny clap of her hands, “lets.”

Charlie’s grin falters when she meets Castiel’s gaze in the rear-a-view mirror. “Cas,” she sighs, and even she can hear the “ _it’s been three years”_ behind it. Dean’s a pretty great guy, when he wants to be, genuine and kinda humorous. His only problem is that he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed. She doesn’t like it, doesn’t like what it’s doing to Castiel but she can give all the advice in the world and those boys are still going to do what they want. They have that in common, she muses, that stubbornness.

 “I’m fine Char,” Castiel assures her, though his grip on the steering wheel has tightened immensely. He signals to pull onto the street where Balthy’s Ice Cream Shop is located.

Charlie studies him before nodding and picking up where she left off. “Okay,” she chuckles. “He’s hot.”

“Delicious,” Pam adds and grins wickedly. “I’d like to get a good taste of him.”

Charlie rolls her eyes. “Slut.”

Pam just rolls her eyes and owns it. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“I hear the football team recruited a few new members,” Castiel adds, joining in on the conversation.

Charlie laughs. “I hear they’re virgins too.”

“Oh shut up,” Pam mutters but there’s no real hard feelings behind it.

Everyone knows that Pam’s sexual appetite is big, just as everyone knows that she’s not the relationship type. So she gets around, has some fun and really no one can fault her for that. Plus Pam’s careful, smart. If she weren’t, Castiel and Charlie would have beaten some sense into her a long time ago.

“He’s got this intense look about him too,” Charlie carries on. “Almost like he can look right through you.” She feigns a shudder. “I don’t like it.”

“I don’t know what Dean sees in him,” Pam says as Castiel pulls into an empty parking spot and cuts off the engine.

“Are we done now?” he asks, exasperated. He didn’t want to talk about Dean’s latest boyfriend, or conquest, depending on how you want to look at it. He gets enough of that from Dean himself. And it’s not exactly news that Dean’s a man’s man.

 “For now,” Charlie answers before opening her door and slipping out. “I want a chocolate banana milkshake before we continue dissecting Dean’s love life.”

Pam snickers when Castiel curses under his breath.

 

~ ~ ~

 

“Jesus I’m full,” Charlie whines as she falls back against the booth, hand falling to her stomach. 

“You drank the whole thing in five minutes,” Pam points out with a smirk. “I do not feel sorry for you.”

“And you better not puke in my new car,” Castiel adds with a frown before wrapping his lips around the straw of his milkshake.

Charlie pouts before sitting up and resting her arms on the table. “Your car is four months old Cas, it’s not brand new anymore.”

“It’s still got that new car smell though,” Pam interjects and Charlie sticks her tongue out.

“Whatever.”

Castiel watches his friends in fond amusement. Sometimes he can’t believe he’s lucky enough to have them in his life. “What do you guys want to do now?” he asks, plucking at the fraying hem of his jean shorts.

Pam glances down at her watch, wiggles her eyebrows. “Well we have an hour before Charlie and I have to be back for detention so…wanna hit the boardwalk?”

“You guys have detention?” he asks, pretending to be chocked. “For what?”

“Pam thought it would be a good idea to get smart with Brady, the hot new history teacher,” Charlie explains. “She dragged me into it.”

Pam laughs. “I’m not the one who made the comment about his delectable ass.”

“Uh…yes you are,” Charlie says, throwing her straw at Pam. “I’m a lesbian remember?”

“So that means you can’t enjoy a fine piece of ass, even if it has a dick?” Pam demands.

Castiel shakes his head. “Brady does have a really great ass,” he agrees and Pam throws an arm around his shoulders.

“See even Castiel agrees!”

“That’s because Castiel is a homo,” Charlie pouts out with a whine.

Castiel pushes his milkshake away before nudging Pam out of the booth. “Let’s get out of here you idiots,” he says, “before you end up getting us kicked out.”

They wave goodbye to Balthazar who yells at them to be good but not too good and Castiel has to suppress the urge to roll his eyes.

 

~ ~ ~

 

The boardwalk is all but deserted except for the usual joggers and dog walkers, gone were the summer crowds and laughing children as they ran in and out of the water. It was easy to pretend it was just them. Castiel links his arm through Charlie’s as Pam walks a little ways a head of them, head dipped back and enjoying the way the breeze played through her hair. Castiel can’t help the small smile that plays at his lips.

It’s nice here, tranquil and exactly what Castiel needed.

He turns his head to glance down at Charlie, takes in the brooding look and slightly pouted lips, reminding him that there was something on her mind. “You wanna talk about it?” he asks and feels Charlie stiffen.

“Not really,” she answers voice sad in a way that he isn’t used to hearing.

“Well I’m here when you want to talk Char,” Castiel murmurs.

“I know.”

They walk in silence after that, Pam a head of them and Charlie’s head resting on his shoulder. It’s easy to get lost in his own head when they’re like this, quiet and contemplating. So it’s really no surprise when he finds his thoughts straying to Dean and the way things used to be. He misses it. Not just the kisses but the whole being each other’s everything. He misses the way he used to be so open with Dean, the way Dean used to be so open with him and it’s something he wishes he could have back. They had been inseparable, thick as thieves, attached to the hip and now, now they are friends and nothing more.

He figures it could be worse. He could have lost Dean completely.

He sighs and kicks at the rock in front of him, watches as it bounces up the boardwalk and narrowly misses the back of Pam’s foot.

“Cas?” Charlie says quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a serious question?”

He frowns, the seriousness in her voice unsettling him. He’s used to Charlie being so happy go lucky. “Of course,” he tells her. He watches as Charlie’s mouth opens and closes before giving her arm a soothing rub.

“How did you know that you were in love with Dean?” she asks.

Castiel frowns. Hadn’t he told his friends this story yet? “There a reason you want to know?”

Charlie shrugs but she won’t meet Castiel’s eyes.

“You’re not in love with Dean are you?” he asks in an attempt to lighten the mood and it works, for a minute.

“No,” Charlie laughs softly. She slows her pace before pausing in the middle of the boardwalk. She glances at Pam and when Pam doesn’t seem to notice that they aren’t behind her, she returns her attention back to Castiel. “I think I might be in love with Jo.”

“Oh,” Castiel breathes.

He can’t say that he’s surprised, except that maybe he kind of is- which really has a lot more to do with his own self-involvement and less to do with Charlie keeping him out of the loop. But now that he’s thinking about it, things between the two of them have been a lot more tense than normal. And the way Charlie looks at Jo, like the sun sets and rises around her, it’s the same look she’s accused him of giving Dean. So how the hell could he have missed that? He’s a shitty friend sometimes.

Charlie sighs and resumes walking, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “Yeah,” she mutters. “Got myself in a real pickle here.”

“Does she know?” Castiel wonders as he falls in step beside her.  Up a head Pam is talking with some guys that Castiel recognizes from the high school across town. He almost rolls his eyes. Leave it to Pam.

“I don’t think so,” she murmurs and noticing a bench up a head she collapses on it. 

“Are you going to tell her?” he asks as he sits down beside her, shifting so that he’s looking at her head on. 

“Are you going to tell Dean?” she counters.

 Castiel winces, knowing he had that one coming. But if there’s one thing that Castiel has learned is that if you don’t go after what you want, eventually it will be too late. He should know, he’s got years of experience. He falls back against the bench and stretches his legs out lazily. 

“You should tell her,” he admits quietly, honestly. “You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

“Maybe.” Charlie mirrors Castiel’s pose, huffs in frustration. “But how did you know Cas?”

I just knew,” he whispers.

 

~ ~ ~

 _Somehow Castiel was able to find that balance between being Dean’s friend and being….well Dean’s friend. It’s complicated; impossible to explain to anyone who doesn’t know them, but somehow he did it. But just because he’s found that_ balance _doesn’t make things any easier and most days he feels like he’s straddling that imaginary line he’s drawn. All the things he can’t do, he wants to. He feels helpless, lost in so many ways that it’s growing increasingly difficult just being around Dean._

_Growing up, Castiel has never been more sure of anything than he is with his friendship with Dean. He’s always known that Dean would be there, through thick and thin because that’s where Dean’s always been. He just never imagined that there would be a time that their friendship would be restricted, that he wouldn’t be allowed to touch whenever he wanted to or lean in on a whim and press his lips to Dean. Little carefree moments that meant so much to both of them, he just figured they’d always be there._

_But now, sitting here with Dean working on whatever homework they have in front of them, Castiel can’t help but wonder if things were a lot more one-sided than he’d realized. Sighing he closes the book in front of him, no longer able to concentrate on the words. He considers the pack of cigarettes hidden away in his nightstand, the ones he’d gotten off of Pam more out of curiosity then the desire to take up the habit and wonders what the tang of tobacco would taste like. He’s about to reach out, pull the draw open when his skin begins to hum – a tell-tale sign that Dean’s eyes are on him and he struggles not to fidget._

_“What?” he asks, suddenly feeling shy and a little on display. It’s testament to how much things between them have changed. “Do I have something on my face?”_

_Dean shakes his head as he crosses his legs underneath him and gestures to the spot on the floor beside him. “C’mere Cas.”_

_Castiel hesitates. He knows_ that _look on Dean’s face, can draw it perfectly with his eyes closed if he had to.  And it’s exactly why that he can’t bring himself to do as Dean requested. Doing so would mean upsetting the balance he’s worked so hard to establish and he can’t do it- he won’t because as much as he misses_ this, _Dean isn’t his to have._

_It just sucks that he will always be Dean’s._

_“Cas.”_

_And that’s all it takes to have Castiel’s resolve come crumbling down around him. He slides from his position on the bed and lowers himself down in front of Dean. He keeps some distance between them, makes sure that the space between their nearly touching knees is noticeable enough to both of them. He may have given in, but he’s making it clear that he’s_ not _going to be the one that crosses that line._

_Dean stares at him, eyes roaming over every inch of his face, body and Castiel has to fight the urge to squirm, to look away. He wants to open his mouth, tell Dean that they shouldn’t be doing this; that it’s not fair to both of them but he can’t do it. He wants this, whatever it may be; cost be damned._

_Eventually Dean reaches out, tangles his hand in the front of Castiel’s shirt and pulls him close. Their mouths are inches apart, a breath away and he desperately wants to close the distance between them. But as much as he wants it, he knows it has to be Dean because for one crazy minute it’s all too easy to pretend that things haven’t changed._

_So he waits, waits for what feels like hours before Dean’s mouth is finally on his own. The kiss is all teeth and fumbling lips and it’s over before it really even started, leaving Castiel reeling._

_So he waits, waits for what feels like hours before Dean’s mouth is finally on his own. And God, it’s nothing like what it used to be. It’s all teeth and fumbling lips, like they’re both trying to find purchase on shaky ground. Then it’s over, leaving Castiel breathless and reeling as he struggles to catch up as to why Dean would be retreating so quickly._

_Of course it all hits home the moment Dean breaks the silence._

_“I gotta go,” Dean murmurs as he gathers up his books, shoves them into his bag. “Sam’s got soccer practice.”_

_Castiel watches as Dean struggles with the zipper before pushing to his feet. Whatever just happened here, he’s not ready to let Dean just leave. No matter what, they’re friends right? “I’ll come with you,” he says quietly._

_Dean pauses, bag hanging loosely from his fingers before nodding his head. “Okay,” he replies and walks out the door, leaving Castiel to follow after him._

_~ ~ ~_

 

Castiel remembers all too clearly what had happened after that and it’s something he doesn’t care to remember either. He pushes off the bench and holds his hand out to Charlie.

 “We should probably get back,” he says sadly, “if you two want to be on time for detention.”

Charlie nods her head and lets her fingers locked with Castiel’s. “Yeah,” she says before pulling Castiel in for a quick hug. “Pam’s probably scored some digits,” she comments.

“I don’t doubt it,” Castiel laughs. “Let’s go cockblock her shall we?”

“Yes lets!” Charlie grins.

 

~ ~ ~

 

_ Dean _

 

Sucking face in the middle of the cafeteria isn’t normally Dean’s thing, actually he’s pretty much not into the whole PDA thing. But he’s known to occasionally make the exception when the mood strikes. He’s not completely unreasonable after all--which is exactly why he finds himself leaning in, catching Michael’s bottom lip in his teeth and biting down roughly. It’s only when Michael’s lips part underneath his and their tongues slick slide together that Dean _feels_ him. 

His eyes open without meaning too, zeroing in on Castiel’s retreating back and feels his stomach tighten in response. And for the first time in a while, he finds himself wishing for the way things used to be.

Before high school.  

He eases away from Michael, dragging his bottom lip with him before picking up the slice of pizza on his tray. It’s too greasy, too much cheese but he’s hungry so what the hell? He takes a bite and tries not to gag around the uncooked dough in the centre.

“That’s fucking disgusting,” he grumbles and tosses it down. He eyes the chicken nuggets on Michael’s tray and bats his eyelashes at him.

Michael chuckles and slides his tray over. “I suppose we can share,” he says, trying to sound put upon but Dean knows damn well Michael likes to share—with him.  Only him.

Dean sends him a wink before snagging a chicken nugget and tossing it into his mouth, groaning in delight. Definitely better than the pizza.  “Thanks,” he says, swallowing.

“Not a problem,” Michael says easily, grinning at him. 

Dean can’t help the way his stomach flutters with someone a lot closer to guilt than excitement. He’s aware that Michael’s feelings for him are stronger than his own, that he’s a little more committed to his relationship than he is. But then again, Michael’s not sort of maybe in love with his best friend. He frowns.  

 “You okay?” Michael asks.

Dean forces his features to soften before giving him a beaming smile. “Yeah, ‘course,” he says easily.

Michael studies him for a minute, eyes flickering down to Dean’s mouth silently asking for permission. Only when Dean’s lips tug up in the corner does he capture Dean’s mouth.

It’s a slow tangle of tongues, lazy, tender that does little to spark the low burn in Dean’s belly.  Each nip, each press of plush lips against his only serves to remind him that this isn’t what he wants. He wants harder, faster, and more possessive. He wants a kiss that leaves him panting and starving for more. Instead he’s left feeling oddly empty.

“You coming over later?” Dean asks, momentarily stunned by the words that were so far from what he’d actually been thinking.  

Michael shakes his head. “I can’t,” he answers. “I got Anna’s dance recital tonight.”

Dean remembers Michael telling him that and kicks himself for not remembering. “Oh yeah,” he chuckles. “What about after?” He slides a hand up Michael’s thigh in an attempt to chase away that empty feeling.

 “I think I could manage that,” Michael murmurs, hand falling on top of Dean’s, stopping him. “I’ll text you and let you know.”

Dean knows that Michael coming over tonight probably isn’t a good idea. Honestly, he knows it isn’t but he can’t help himself—Michael’s hot and he kind of needs the distraction. Removing his hand from Michael’s thigh he gives him a lazy grin. “I’ll see you later,” he murmurs before unfolding himself from the table and making his way towards his locker. 

~ ~ ~

In last period

Castiel has this habit of inconveniently occupying Dean’s mind, and even though he can logically chalk it all up to the fact that he’s currently in last period—a class he shares with Castiel—he knows that’s not exactly true. There are a lot of reasons the guy’s never that far from his thoughts, but it gets old after a while. Especially when he barely glances in Dean’s direction any longer than necessary.

 Lowering himself into his seat, Dean glances around the room in search for stupid blue eyes and unruly hair but comes up empty. He curses underneath his breath, realizing that he must have decided to ditch again.  It’s a habit Castiel’s picked up as of late, and though he tries not to let it worry him, it does. He’d always figured he’d be the one more likely to bail out on school not Castiel. Apparently things change.

He pulls his cellphone out his pocket and scrolls down until he finds Castiel’s number. At one point it was a number he used frequently, daily and now, well he’s lucky if he uses it twice a week. They’re not as close as they once were, not really. He opens up a blank text, types out a message quickly before hitting send. He wonders if Castiel will even respond.

He puts the phone on his desk and returns his attention to Mrs. Harvelle as she drones on and on about something Dean can’t quite get himself to pay attention to.  He knows she’ll box his ears in later and the thought makes him smile. Jo’s mother is feisty and strict and damn if she’ll let him flunk her class. She’s told him as much over pizza one night at Jo’s house. He loves her, like a lot.

He nearly jumps when his phone vibrates and Mrs. Harvelle glares at him. He mouths an apology before switching it to silent and opens the message.

_Out with Pam and Charlie. On our way back now. Miss anything important? - Cas_

_Nope._

He slips his phone back into his pocket before flipping open his beat up notebook and copying down the notes on the board. He tells himself he’s not doing it for Castiel, but when the hell does he normally take notes? Yeah, he’s such a fucking liar.

~ ~ ~

 

The bell signalling the end of the day is one of the greatest things Dean has ever heard. He slides from his desk as he gathers his books and heads for the door.

“Dean,” Mrs. Harvelle says and Dean should have known he wouldn’t get so lucky. He turns on his heel and makes his way to stand in front of her desk. “Close the door behind you Milligan,” she calls out and waits for the door to click shut behind him.

“Take a seat,” she says lazily, gesturing to the row of empty desks as she props her feet up on the desk. She waits a beat, watching as Dean’s shoulders give the slightest slump as he lowers himself down. She doesn’t miss the way his eyes don’t directly meet hers and wonders if the boy thinks she’s both blind and stupid.  She knows Dean just as well as she knows her own kin, has spent nearly the same amount of time with them too. So it doesn’t take just a mother’s intuition to know that something is troubling him and that something starts with the letter _c_.

She drops her feet back down to the floor, rolls her chair closer to the desk before folding her arms on it. “You gonna tell me what’s going on?” she asks, voice stern; no nonsense and she can tell the moment it sets Dean on edge.

“S’nothing going on,” he mutters, eyes cast down and knee bouncing restlessly. He’s never been comfortable with lying to Mrs. Harvelle.

Mrs. Harvelle nods her head, just barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “Do you take me for a fool Winchester?” she questions.

“No,” Dean replies, back straightening as he glances up at Mrs. Harvelle.

“Does it have anything to do with why Thing 2’s been skipping class?” she carries on, brow raised. “Or are we not talking about that?”

Dean’s mouth opens and closes as he struggles to find the words. As much as he’d like to open up about whatever this thing with Castiel is, he doesn’t know where to begin. And truth be told, he doesn’t have the energy for it.  So instead he goes with: “Not talking about it.”

“Fair enough,” Mrs. Harvelle tells him. “But when you’re ready…..”

“Thanks,” Dean says quietly. They are words he didn’t need to hear out loud, he already knows. But they help ease the knot that had formed in his stomach when he sat down. “Am I good to go now?”

“In a minute.” She drops her feet down and ruffles through some of the papers on her desk, makes a little ah-ha sound when she finds what she was looking for. “We need to talk about this,” and hands the paper to him. “You failed another test, Dean.”

He swallows hard. He had already known this but seeing the F clearly marked on his paper made it that much more real. “Shit,” he mutters. “Sorry Mrs. Harvelle.”

 “You need a tutor, boy?” she asks.

Dean shakes his head. He really doesn’t. He knows this stuff, can do it in his sleep….he’s just distracted. “No,” he admits. “I’ll do better,” he promises.

Ellen gives him a once over before sighing. “I know you will.” She waits a beat. “You can go now.”

“See ya later,” he says, making his way towards the door.

Dean can’t find it in himself to be annoyed when he finds Michael waiting for him at his locker. Not when the weight on his shoulders is heavier than usual. Dropping his books into his locker, he shuts it with a small thud and leans against the cool metal to give Michael his best, lazy grin. The one he knows makes the guy’s heart melt.  And if he feels guilty for using Michael as nothing more than a distraction technique, that’s no one’s business but his.

“Hey,” he says, ankles crossing and hands slipping into the pockets of his jeans.

“How was your last class?” Michael asks.

“Boring,” Dean shrugs before straightening and tugging on Michael’s sleeve. “Uneventful,” he adds as they head down the crowded hallway side by side, but not completely touching.

“You look stressed,” Michael points out and places a hand on Dean’s arm, slowing them. He doesn’t notice the way Dean moves just ever so slightly to the left, not until his hand falls away. He frowns, but doesn’t comment on it. 

“Failed another test,” Dean admits, swerving around a crowd of freshmen.

“I see,” Michael murmurs and suddenly—at least to him—the distance makes sense.

“S’no big deal,” Dean shakes it off, the failure and the guilt. “I’ll just try better next time. It’s not like I don’t know this stuff.”

Michael nods his head. “I’m sure you’ll get back on track.”

“Yeah,” Dean agrees as they step outside into the warm autumn sun. They stand there awkwardly, neither of them quite sure what to do before Dean presses a quick, chaste kiss to Michael’s cheek. “I’ll see you later okay?”

And if either of them noticed the lack of anything _real_ in that gesture, they ignored it.

Without glancing back, Dean makes his way towards his car. He’s digging into the front pocket of his jeans when he spots a familiar face in his peripheral vision and he stops dead in his tracks, head lifting to get good look at him. Castiel looks good, really good and he’s completely at a loss of what to do. He wants to say hi, wants to go up and drag Castiel into a hard hug and make everything okay again. But he knows it’s something he’s not allowed to do, not anymore. So he stands there, stock still until Castiel’s gaze finds his and feels the breath being knocked out of him.

He hadn’t realized how fucking much he misses his best friend until right now. And how could he not have? That empty feeling that he’s been carrying around with him?  Well _this_ was the fucking reason.  This is what’s been missing: _Cas_. Everything he’s ever done, he’s had Castiel by his side. Failed a test, Castiel was there to study with him.  Fell down and scraped his knee, Castiel was there. So many little insignificant things that helped shape the people they are today and yet, no matter how much he wants to, he can no longer just walk up to the one person that truly matters.

With a shaking breath, Dean lifts his hand; gives a little wave of his hand. Castiel stares at him, confused but eventually returns the gesture before looking away and heading in the direction of the school with Pam and Charlie—who Dean hadn’t even noticed they were there.

He tries to ignore the sinking feeling he has in the pit of his stomach as he watches them walk away.

~ ~ ~

 

“Gees thanks so much for waiting for me,” Jo says sarcastically as she climbs into Dean’s car. “What happened to meeting outside the library? You forget where it was?”

Dean scowls as he slips the key into the ignition, listens as his baby purrs to life before shifting it into drive. “Did ya wanna walk?” he asks, brow raised and threatening. Unfortunately Jo only rolls her eyes at him and flips on the radio, searching through channels of static before finding the one station that she knows he hates.  He lets it go, for now.

“So,” she murmurs casually, sliding a pack of gum from the front of her bag and unwraps it. “A little birdy told me you failed another test.”

Dean groans. “By little birdy you mean your slightly nosy mother? What happened to student-teacher confidentiality or whatever?”

Jo chuckles. “Just one of the many downsides to being friends with me.” Shifting in her seat, she looks at Dean. “You know she’s just looking out for you right?”

Course he knows that, how can’t he? As much of a pain in the ass Jo’s mom can be, she’s been around for as long as he can remember. That firm hand whenever Bobby couldn’t keep him on the straight and narrow.  Not that Bobby ever really had trouble with that, just the occasional I hate the world teenage melodramatics that kept them both awake at night.

“I know,” he sighs.

“Hey Dean?” Jo asks quietly after a while.

“Yeah?”

“How’s Cas?”

Fuck if he knows, he thinks sadly, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “Good I guess,” he answers, totally focused on the road ahead of him. He signals before turning off onto a beat up dirt road, lets his himself get lost in the rising dust and cringes inwardly thinking about his car being dirty.

Jo nods her head as she rolls her bottom lip through her teeth. “You ever going to tell me what’s going on between the two of you? It’s been…awhile,” she murmurs. “I assumed whatever it was would have blown over a long time ago.”

“I don’t know,” he replies and forces his grip to relax when his fingers begin to tingle.  He really doesn’t know if he’ll ever be ready to talk about his stupid unrequited feelings concerning Castiel. Doesn’t see why he should have to, shouldn’t Castiel just know? Shouldn’t Jo? Plus none of that matters anymore, it can’t. He’s with Michael now, sort of. He nearly groans. He’s not even in love with Michael. And honestly, he doesn’t even know if he has real feelings for the guy either.

“You suck,” Jo tells him in mock frustration but reaches over to lay a hand on his arm briefly. “Just come talk to me when you’re ready okay?”

“You’ll be the first person,” Dean assures her as he pulls into her driveway, cut the engine. “Now it’s your turn.”

Jo’s brow raises. “My turn?” she asks, confused.

“You take me for a fool Harvelle?” Dean says, quoting Jo’s mom. “Seriously though Jo, you can’t tell me there ain’t something up between you and the redhead.”

“Oh,” Jo sighs, slumping back into her seat. “She’s been avoiding me.”

“Why’d she do something like that?” Dean questions.

Jo shrugs her shoulders. “Could be a lot of reasons.”

“Like?” Dean frowns. “C’mon Jo, lay it all on me.”

Rolling her eyes Jo unbuckles her seat belt. “Would if I could Winchester,” she states before pushing open the door. “Don’t forget about me tomorrow.”

“Like I could,” Dean calls out after her.

He waits until the front door closes behind her before backing out of the driveway. Apparently he’s not the only one with something they don’t wanna talk about.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Dean

__

He was going home, at least that had been the plan but the moment he pulled his car into the driveway of his house, his gaze wandered over to Castiel’s house and he knew he was going to go over. Castiel wasn’t home yet and Dean’s not exactly sure why he thought he would be, considering he had just been heading back in to the school as Dean was leaving. He shakes his head and cuts the engine. Whatever, he’ll just wait for him.

He pushes open the door, winces at the creaking sound before climbing out, making a mental note to look at it later. He’s not exactly sure if this is a good idea; actually he knows it’s not but he’s already cutting across the lawn separating the houses so there’s no going back now. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and makes his way up the porch steps to Castiel’s house.

He knocks on the door before letting himself in; it’s an old habit, one he knows he’ll never be able to break no matter how estranged he and Castiel may be.

“Dean!” Amelia exclaims brightly as she steps out of the kitchen. There’s flour on her cheek and batter on her apron. It’s a welcome sight to Dean’s homesick heart. 

“Amelia,” he grins as he steps forward to kiss her clean cheek. “How are you?”

“Better now that you’re here,” she tells him and beckons him into the kitchen. “I’m just in the middle of making a homemade pie.”

“What kind?” Dean asks curiously as he leans against the kitchen island. There’s bowls everywhere and he’s not the least bit surprised that the flour is every else other than her cheek. He chuckles softly.

“Apple,” she says and glances over her shoulder. “It’s still your favourite right?”

Dean nods his head, tries to ignore the way his stomach clenches unpleasantly. “Sure is.”

“Good. You’ll stay for dinner than won’t you?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He shrugs his shoulders and pushes himself so that he’s standing upright. “We’ll see,” he murmurs. He doesn’t have to explain himself to Amelia; she knows just as well as everyone else that something hasn’t been right between them for a while now.

She pats his cheek, giving him a sad smile before turning back to her baking. “I hope you two work everything out,” she says honestly. “I don’t like seeing my boys upset.”

“I’ll do my best.” He gives her another quick kiss before making his way out of the kitchen. “I’ll just go wait for him upstairs.”

“Sure thing Dean.”

He makes his way up the stairs, ignoring the memories that echo around him with each step.  It’s almost too easy to let himself get swept away by the kids they used to, lose himself in whispered secrets and sticky grins.  So he takes a deep breath, clears his head and mentally prepares himself as he pushes open the half closed door of Castiel’s bedroom.

Funny how it feels like stepping into another lifetime.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Castiel 

 

Castiel smells the pie the moment he steps inside and his stomach growls in response. He sets his bag on the bottom of the stairs and makes his way into the kitchen. “Hey mom,” he says as he slips on to one of the empty stools. He watches as she moves around the room, cleaning up the mess she had made earlier before dropping the cloth into the sink and turning to face him.

“Hi honey,” she beams and pulls out a bottle of water from the fridge. “How was your day?”

Castiel shrugs and decides to skip over the part where he ditched his last two classes. She’ll find out tomorrow anyway. “Alright, I guess,” he answers. “How was your day?”

“Productive,” she laughs and brushes the flour of her cheek. “Dean’s upstairs.”

Castiel freezes, heart coming to a complete halt at the words. Dean’s here? Why? “What?” he asks stupidly.

Amelia shrugs. “He came over a little while ago.”

Castiel nods his head, still trying to wrap his brain around the whole _Dean’s upstairs_ part. “Did he say why he came over?”

“No. But he’s waiting for you so go on.”

“Okay,” he says quietly and slides from the stool.

He tries to come up with a reason as to why Dean would be here and comes up with nothing. They’ve hung out a handful of times maybe since school started and that was weeks ago. They were nearing the end of September after all.  He climbs his stairs slowly, unsure and incredibly nervous. He shoves his shaking hands in to the pockets of his jeans as he approaches his room.

And it feels like he just got hit by a truck the moment his eyes land on Dean.

Dean’s sitting on his bed, a picture of them from grade eight in his hands and Castiel can’t really help the way his stomach flops.  He wonders what Dean’s thinking right now, if he sees the same thing Castiel does every time he sees that picture. They’d been young, sure, but they’d still had a world ahead of them- a world where the reality of their current situation hadn’t been a possibility. He takes a step inside and closes the door softly behind him.

 “Hey,” he says lamely.

Dean looks up from the picture and gives Castiel a shaky grin. “Hey,” he returns and moves over, allowing Castiel some room to sit down beside him.

“What are you doing here?” he asks quietly as he lowers himself down onto the bed, legs crossing underneath him.

“I don’t know,” Dean answers honestly. “I just needed to be here I guess.”

“Okay,” Castiel murmurs. His hands itch to touch Dean, to link his fingers with Dean’s. He knows it would be as easy as breathing but the thought that Dean wouldn’t return the embrace terrifies him. Plus Dean has Michael. He doesn’t need Castiel, not for that.

Dean runs his fingers over the photo of them before setting the frame back on Castiel’s nightstand. “Cas,” he whispers and there’s no denying the way his voice cracks and Castiel would do anything to make it go away. He waits for Dean to go on, waits for him to finish whatever he was about to say but Dean just lets out a shuddering breath and swings off the bed.

“Dean?” Castiel questions; confused when his best friend beings to pace. Best friend? Is that what they were? He’s not sure anymore because lately it feels like Pam and Charlie is all he’s got. His own decision, mind you.

Dean curses under his breath before coming back to sit down on the bed. “I miss you,” he says and it’s so quiet that Castiel almost doesn’t hear him. “I miss you a fucking lot.”

Castiel doesn’t have time to stop himself before he’s saying, “I miss you too,” and nearly kicks himself for the hopeful look that it instills in Dean’s weary eyes. “But…..but that doesn’t change anything.”

“Doesn’t change what Cas?” Dean demands, voice rising as he searches Castiel’s face for an answer he can’t give. “What happened between us?”

Castiel looks away, plucks at the fraying hem of his shorts. “Nothing happened between us Dean.”

Dean jumps off the bed, stunned. “That’s bullshit Cas! Talk to me.”

Castiel shakes his head sadly, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill. “I can’t, Dean. Just…. leave it alone.”

“No, damn it. I want my best friend back!”

He’s on Castiel in a second.

It’s a shock to them both when Dean’s lips claim Castiel’s. All Castiel can do is cling to Dean’s arms as he tries not to give himself over completely, struggles to hold onto that single shred of sanity he has left.  He’s long ago lost track of how many times he’s allowed himself to get swallowed up by Dean, with Dean. And when Dean’s tongue begins to play at the space between his lips, Castiel pushes him away, pushes him off.

This is so fucking stupid, _reckless_ but Dean can’t stop himself. It doesn’t matter that this isn’t _what_ they are anymore, that they don’t do this. He doesn’t care, not when for the first time in too damn long he’s got Castiel’s lips against his. It feels good, so damn good that he doesn’t notice that Castiel’s not kissing back, not really. He doesn’t register the hands on his chest, not until they’re pushing into him—pushing him away.

 “Stop,” he pleads and hates the way he sounds so small. “Just stop.”

Dean pushes himself against the wall, chest heaving and eyes wild. “Cas,” he begins, “I’m sorry. Sorry for whatever I did to fuck this up.”

“I think you should leave,” Castiel says quietly. “Just…please go Dean.”

Dean nods his head, knowing that whatever was so screwed up between them before he just went and fucked it up even more. He stops at Castiel’s door and turns back. “For whatever it’s worth, Cas, I still need you.”

“Do you?” Castiel asks his closed door.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Dean

 

He was a fucking idiot, there was no other way to explain the way he just messed everything up to epic proportions. He went there to fix things, right? And now they were even more broken, next to irreparable and Dean has no one to blame but himself. He kicks off his boots, lets them slam against his bedroom wall with a satisfying thud before collapsing on his bed and pulling a pillow over his face. 

“Fucking stupid,” he mutters.

“Dean?” a voice says through his door before it opens and Sammy peaks his head inside. “You okay?”

“Peachy,” he replies but he tosses the pillow aside and sits up. “What’s up kid?”

“Uncle Bobby says dinners ready if you want to come and eat,” Sam murmurs with a tilt of his head as he studies Dean. “You sure you’re okay?”

Dean stands up and ruffles Sam’s hair at the door. “I’m fine, kid. Let’s go eat.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

Castiel

 

Castiel counts to a hundred before grabbing his car keys and running down the stairs. He ignores his mom’s confused questions, the _what’s wrongs, where are you going_ ’s and doesn’t look back until he’s got the car’s upholstery underneath him.  It’s not until he’s on the road that he glances in the rear-view mirror, finds his mother’s figure shrinking with the distance and curses himself for being so damn selfish. His mom is supposed to be the one he goes to when it feels like his whole damn world is falling apart, he’s supposed to seek her comfort, her guidance and what is he doing? High-tailing it to Charlie’s because he _knows_ she’ll say the things he wants to hear, even if she doesn’t believe them. Who can blame him for needing that?

Sniffing, he tries to keep his focus on the road in front of him and not the waves of emotion that threaten to crash over him.  He can feel the tightening of his stomach, his chest and he wants to scream.  He’s tried so hard to keep this all bottled up, hidden away but right now, after what just happened, he can feel the dam begin to break. It’s only when it claims him, threatens to drag him down, that he pulls over to the side of the road.

He reaches out, grips the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white underneath the strain. It’s only when his body begins to tremble, that almost shake that starts in his toes and works its way up that he takes deep, harsh breaths. He’s okay, he’s okay. Except that he’s not. He’s so far from it he might as well be in Oz. He blinks once, twice, in an attempt to fight the tears that are quickly pricking at the corner of his eyes. But it’s no use, once they start there’s no stopping them.

His grip on the steering wheel grows slack as he folds in on himself, lets his forehead drop against his hands as his body quakes with the anguish he’s held in for so long now. He never wanted this, any of this and there are no words that could properly describe how it feels now that that last shred of hope he’s held onto for so long has finally been ripped out from underneath him. Gone is every damn illusion he had that maybe one day they could be friends, and nothing more.

Tonight had been the clarity he never wanted, never fucking asked for and it hurt. It hurt a lot because without Dean he felt…. _less_ —whatever that means. But the knowledge that he somehow could have prevented all of this, if he’d only told Dean from the beginning how he felt, hurt a hundred times more.

Exhausted, he pushes himself up and leans back against the seat. He lets himself relax and waits until the shuddering dissipates before lifting his hands up to wipe away the dampness from his cheeks.  It will do him no good to go into Charlie’s looking like he’d just been hit by a bus, no matter if that’s exactly how he feels.

The sun is just beginning to slip behind the clouds when Castiel shifts his car into drive. And as he slowly creeps back out onto the highway, he watches the sunset with a tiny, wistful smile.

 

~ ~ ~

 

_Summer vacation ends in a couple days and Castiel’s going to be sad to see it go because to say that this has been the best summer yet would be an understatement. They’re camped out in Dean’s backyard, their tent packed with various magazines and an assortment of candy but they’re not exactly paying attention to any of it. It’s a hot sticky night in August and it wasn’t long before Dean had declared it too stuffy to be inside the tent and had them dragging their sleeping bags from the tent to lay them out on the grass._

_“See this is better, ain’t it Cas?” Dean asks, laying back against the sleeping bag and watching the sky._

_Castiel grins and makes himself comfortable, arranging his pillow behind his head just right. “Yeah,” he agrees, enjoying the way the breeze plays along his skin. He reaches out to tangle his fingers with Dean’s. They’ve been doing this more. Sometimes it’s conscious and other times not so much. It makes Castiel smile, knowing just how connected to one another they are._

_He looks up at the sky, watching as it changes colours. Blue, orange, pink and it’s gorgeous. He turns his head to look at Dean, not the least bit surprised to find the boy’s eyes on him.  “Hey,” Castiel whispers, gaze drinking in the sight of him and the way the waning light seems to pulse around him—almost kinda like he’s staring directly into the sun. He resists the urge to wrinkle his nose at that._

_“Hey,” Dean murmurs before moving closer and cupping Castiel’s cheek fondly before leaning in._

_Dean’s lips are soft against his own; curious even and Castiel finds himself kissing Dean back with such intensity it takes his breath away. It’s never been like this before and he’s too busy kissing to figure it out.  There’s no time to figure out what it all means when Dean’s hand moves from his cheek to tangle in his hair and suddenly he’s shivering in the hot night air._

_They don’t notice when the sun disappears and twilight takes over._

 

~ ~ ~

 

“Cas?” Charlie asks as she pulls him into the house and all but drags him down the hall to her bedroom. “Are you okay?”

All Castiel can muster is a shake of his head before collapsing on Charlie’s bed and lowering his head into his hands. He’s exhausted, so damn tired of avoiding the one person that truly made him happy. It sucks out loud.  He feels the dip of the mattress and he glances at Charlie in between his fingers. “Sorry,” he mutters, hating to drop by unannounced but knowing he didn’t have a choice.

 “It’s fine,” Charlie says softly as her hand comes up to rub soothing circles on his back. “Want to tell me what happened?”

Castiel takes a deep breath before lowering his heads and folding his legs underneath him. “Dean came over tonight.”

Charlie stiffens beside him. “What? Why?”

“He said he missed me,” he whispers, “said he wanted his best friend back.” He tries not to recall the way Dean’s lips had felt on his, tries not to remember the muscles underneath his hands. 

“What did you say?”

“What could I say?” Castiel says voice defeated. “I told I missed him back but that didn’t change anything.” He sighs, gaze dropping away from Charlie to look at his hands. “He wanted to know what he did to fuck everything up.” 

“Oh baby,” Charlie croons and pulls Castiel against her. “Want me to go kick his ass?”

Castiel chuckles, “That’s not the worst of it.” He takes a deep breath, delaying the moment for a second. “He kissed me.”

Charlie’s hands grip at his shoulders as she eases him back. “He kissed you?”

Castiel nods. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “But it’s not what you think. It’s something we used to always do, a habit I guess. It never meant anything, was never supposed to mean anything.”

Charlie sighs but pulls Castiel back against her. “I think you’re both idiots, you know that right?”

He gives her a watery laugh. “Yeah, I do.”

“Good.”

“Thanks Charlie.”

“Yeah no problem,” She kisses his temple before slipping from the bed. 

 

 

~ ~ ~

 

Dean

 

Dean’s got Michael underneath him, nothing but skin on skin and damn if it isn’t hot. He nips at his bottom lip, drags it through his teeth before sliding lower, needing more. He tongues at Michael’s nipples, sucking and biting until he’s got Michael a moaning, quivering mess underneath him and he’s just getting started. 

 “You like that babe?” he asks, voice husky and turned on. His whole body is humming with it. Michael’s reply is a soft moan and arching of his hips, letting Dean know exactly where he wants him. He grins and continues his journey down Michael’s torso. He’s all hard, lean muscles and sun kissed skin and Dean would be lying if he said it wasn’t intoxicating, if he wasn’t into this. The bulge in his pants is a very big indication of that. He’s hard, so fucking hard.

He trails open mouth kisses along Michael’s stomach, pausing to dip his tongue into his navel before nuzzling his face in the coarse hairs at the base of Michael’s cock. “Mmm,” he moans, reveling in everything.  He pulls back slightly, wraps one hand around Michael and strokes slowly, teasingly. “Been wanting to do this all day.”

He ignores the little voice at the back of his head that tells him that’s a lie.

“Then what are you waiting for?” Michael asks, meeting Dean’s hungry eyes with lust filled ones. Dean can’t even bring himself to feel guilty knowing that he’s using the boy before him, he’s suddenly too busy thinking with his dick to care.

He winks before swallowing Michael whole. He’s big, thick and Dean relishes in the weight of him on his tongue as he teases and sucks Michael with just the faintest hint of teeth. They’ve done this enough times for Dean to know exactly how Michael likes it, what he needs.  He keeps a hand wrapped around him and moves in time with the bobs of his head, pausing every now and then to tease at the crown before taking him deep, taking him to the back of his throat so easily he’s a fucking champ.

With his free hand he begins to roll Michael’s testicles, kneading them and uses Michael’s wanton noises to spur him on, make him forget. “So good,” he says, licking at the slit. 

Michael’s hand had worked its way into Dean’s hair and he pushes Dean back down on his cock. “So close,” he tells Dean, hips rolling, seeking out the friction that he desperately needs.

Dean hollows his cheeks, sucks hard. He’s got Michael’s climax in sight now and he zeroes in on it, pulling out all the tricks he’s picked up along the way and it’s not much longer before Michael’s spilling into his mouth, his own lips parted and breathing heavily. He swallows everything his boyfriend has to give before pulling back slowly.

“Fuck Dean,” Michael pants, hand falling from the back of Dean’s hand to land against the mattress.

Dean just grins as he grips Michael’s hips. “I’m so not fucking done with you,” and flips him over onto his stomach. 

He’d be bullshitting if he said it wasn’t easier to picture Castiel like this.

~ ~ ~

 

Castiel

The house is quiet when Castiel turns and he makes his way up to his room quietly, flicking off lights as he goes. It’s late, way past his curfew and he knows there will be consequences for it tomorrow but for right now, he’s just too tired to care. How many times can his world be turned upside down before he just stops caring completely?

Stepping into his bedroom, he slips out of his coat and drops it over the back of his computer chair.  Talking to Charlie tonight may have helped, but it didn’t answer any of the questions floating around in Castiel’s mind. Things like, what was Dean thinking? What right did he have? Bitter things, and the longer he thought about them the angrier he got until there was just nothing left to feel. He’d worn himself out, filled himself up on ice cream and Charlie’s company.

But now that he was home, surrounded by four walls that could tell all kinds of stories he’s suddenly wide awake.  He sighs, toes off his sneakers before turning to rummage through his dresser drawers for a pair of sweatpants. Grabbing a pair from the top of the pile, he unbuttons his jeans and lets them slide to his ankles before kicking them aside. 

He’s standing in the middle of his room, sweatpants pulled up to his knees when his eyes fall onto the bookshelf across the room; immediately drawn to the photo album sitting on the top right shelf.  He pulls his pants the rest of the way up and frowns as he takes a step towards it. Truth be told he’d kind of forgotten about it, not really up to take the trips down memory lane lately. Enough of them follow him around anyways.

He runs his index finger down the spine in consideration, stomach tight before giving in and pulling it from its spot. He holds it against him as he heads towards his bed, folds his legs underneath him as he settles himself in the middle. It takes a few minutes and a few deep breaths before he sets the album down and with shaking fingers, opens it.

It’s easy at first, flipping through the pages and remembering the people they used to be. Big grins, easy laughs and God it hurts to look at them like this.  But he keeps going, chuckling softly at some of the more ridiculous photographs. Halloween, birthdays, Christmas, they were all there. Every part of their friendship chronicled and staring him right in the face.

That’s when things started to get hard.

He waits for the tears to flow, the tightening in his chest but it doesn’t come. Not even when he reaches the last page, finds a picture of the two of them on the first day of high school. He reaches out, traces their faces with his finger and tries not to focus on all the things he could have done differently. Instead, he closes the album, pushes it away and folds his knees in against his chest.

He feels numb, detached in a way he hasn’t before; like he’s finally accepted that there’s always going to be a part of him that’s missing. And maybe the only thing that sort of makes that okay is that he can open the album in front of him and find it laying within its pages. Whatever happens between them, however estranged he and Dean become, he can’t regret any of it.

Glancing at the clock beside his bed, Castiel drops his forehead against his knees as his exhaustion slowly creeps back in.

 

~ ~ ~

 

__

Dean

__

Michael sneaks out his window, refusing to use the front door with the love bites covering his neck. Dean can’t really blame him; he has a fair share of his own. Michael’s a biter and he really _digs_ that.  Dean closes the window behind him, watches as Michael jogs down the street and disappears around the corner. He thinks he could love Michael if he tried hard enough. And fuck he’s trying.

He flops down onto his bed and folds his arms underneath his head.  He feels relaxed, in a way he hasn’t felt in a while and he knows that he took out a lot of his frustrations on Michael, teased him more than was kind but it had felt _so fucking good_. He took it all so well.  Michael was a slut, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

He grabs the edge of his blanket, tugs it over him before settling back down on his side. He’s tired, emotionally, physically, but his body’s pliant and his mind blissfully blank. He’s going to sleep well tonight, he’s positive of it.  The knock on his door almost makes him groan.

“Go to bed Sammy,” he calls out, not bothering to get up and answer it.

“Boy’s already conked out,” Bobby says with a chuckle before turning the doorknob and opening his door slowly. “Michael gone?”

Dean nods his head. There’s no point in lying to Bobby, he knows all. Guy’s got eyes everywhere. “Yeah, left about five minutes ago.”

Bobby steps into his room, movements a little unsure before coming to sit at the end of the bed. He rubs his hands on the thighs of his jeans, a sure sign he’s uncomfortable, a little out of his element even though he’s basically raised him and Sammy.

“So,” Bobby begins scratching at his beard now. “I happened to notice you went over to Cas’s earlier.”

This time Dean does groan. “I don’t want to talk about it Bobby.”

“I know that son,” Bobby sighs and tilts his head to look at Dean. “But you gotta fix whatever it is that’s broken between you two.”

“I don’t know how,” Dean answers simply. It’s the truth. He can’t fix something when he doesn’t know what needs fixing. “I don’t even know what happened to us in the first place.”

Bobby gives him that smile, the one he gives him when Dean’s being stupid and Dean can’t help but be confused by it. “Just promise me you’ll try?”

“I don’t think he even wants to be my friend anymore,” Dean grumbles. “But I’ll try.”

Bobby gives his knee a pat before getting up. “That’s all I ask.” He pauses at the door to look back at the boy he thinks he’s done a fine job of rearing, for someone who never wanted kids to begin with. He thinks of Karen and he gives Dean a small smile. “Goodnight son,” he murmurs before flicking off the night and closing the door behind him.

He waits until the door clicks closed before rolling over and hugging a pillow against him. “I love him,” he whispers to himself. “But what’s the point?”

 


	4. Chapter 4

Dean 

__

It doesn’t matter that he slept like the dead because when Dean wakes up, he wakes up on the wrong side of the bed. There’s a chip on his shoulder that he just can’t brush off and all the bacon and coffee in the world can do nothing to improve his sour mood. He dresses quickly, aggressively, not really caring that the jeans he picked out have a rip in the knee, a fairly big one or that the shirt he picked out has worn and faded. He looks exactly how he feels, he supposes.

He grabs the keys to his car off the hook and slings his backpack over his shoulder as he pulls open the front door, stepping out into the balmy September morning. Really, it’s the end of the fucking month.  Scowling he climbs into the Impala, cursing the damn squeaky doors for the hundredth time. He really does mean to get around to looking at that. But apparently boys with stupid blue eyes and unruly black hair like to fuck with his life and the better part of his morning.

He doesn’t have anyone to blame but himself.  No one made him kiss Castiel last night, just as no one made them attached to the fucking hip growing up and no one made him fall in love either. They’re all things that just _happened_ , to him of all people. He wants his old life back, where things were uncomplicated and he and Castiel could just be whatever the hell they wanted.

The days where he could kiss Castiel without second guessing it, where he could hold his hand for however long he wanted; those days were unfortunately long gone and goddamn it, he had Michael. Michael who treated him amazingly, loved him more than Dean could really fathom, more than Dean deserved because no matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t love Michael back.

Castiel is different. Being without him left him feeling unbalanced, left him with this empty void in his life that he couldn’t fill with anything. The extra time he spent with Sammy, the time he spent with Michael did very little to help ease the ache he felt from missing Castiel.  It was his own burden to bear; one he was going to get used to if it fucking killed him.

He pulls into Jo’s driveway, wondering not for the first time why she just didn’t get a ride in with her mom. It would save him the time and gas. He shakes his head, knowing he just isn’t feeling up to par. He honks the horn before drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, waits for what feels like hours before the front door finally opens and Jo comes sauntering out. Her blond hair is pulled up into a messy bun and her usual jeans have been swapped for yoga pants. He eyes her curiously as she slides into the car, his earlier irritation kicking in again.

“What the fuck took you so long?” he quips, backing out of the driveway before Jo even has her seat belt on.

Jo just shrugs her shoulders before settling back against the seat. “I couldn’t decide what to wear.”

“So you decided to go to school in what you probably rolled out of bed in?” he asks. “Bed head and all?”

Jo flips him off before turning on the radio, turning it loud enough to drown out any attempt for conversation. He scowls. This is his fucking car. He turns it down and when Jo moves to turn it back up, he slaps her hand away. “I swear to God Jo, I will leave your ass on the side of the road.”

“What the hell crawled up your ass and died?” Jo demands with a sneer but she drops her hand and turns to face the window. “Asshole.”

“I could ask you the same fucking question,” Dean snaps, hating that he’s being such a dick. But really, what are best friends for?

“Charlie still isn’t talking to me,” Jo all but yells, exasperated and sad.

“Yeah well,” he starts, fuming but feeling defeated at the same time, “Cas and I had a fight last night.”

“Oh,” Jo sighs and props her feet up on the dash. “Aren’t we quite the pair?”

Dean frowns. “What the hell does that mean?”

Jo glares at him before shaking her head in disappointment. “Nothing,” she says. “So, you and Cas had a fight? Wasn’t even aware you guys were on speaking terms.”

“Well we were, sort of until last night,” Dean admits.

“What happened?”

“Don’t really wanna talk about it,” he says quietly, signalling to pull into the school parking lot. “What about this thing with you and Charlie?”

Jo shrugs, shoulders sagging. “I don’t even know anymore. I keep trying to reach out to her but she just keeps pulling away.”

Dean’s all too familiar with the feeling. He takes her hand in his, marvels out how tiny she is. “You in love with her Jo?”

Jo rolls her bottom lip through her teeth, glances down at the hand wrapped around hers.  “Yes. No,” she sighs and pulls her hand away. “It would make things easier if I were, ya know?”

“Maybe,” he murmurs.

“I should be though,” she says, turning her head to look out the window. “She’s funny and smart and-”

“A girl?”

“A girl,” Jo finishes, frustrated. “But it shouldn’t matter.”

“You can’t force somethin’ that’s not there Jo,” Dean tells her, eyes looking away from the road to Jo. “How you gonna handle it?”

Jo shrugs her shoulders, looking more defeated that Dean’s ever seen her. “I really don’t know.”

Dean nods his head, and signals before turning into the school parking lot. “Word of advice, don’t wait. Find her, talk it out.”

He watches as Jo unfolds herself from the car and wonders if maybe he should start talking his own advice as well.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Castiel 

__

“He did what?” Pam demands voice tight and angry, forcing Castiel to reach out and rub her arm soothingly – to which she glares at him pointedly. “Don’t try to make this okay.”

Castiel sighs. He hadn’t planned on it, at least not consciously. Defending Dean came naturally to him; he’s been doing it for as long as he can remember after all. He twists open the cap on his Coke, drinks deeply. “I’m not,” he says eventually, choosing his words carefully, knowing that Pam will kick his ass if he starts condoning what Dean did—which he wouldn’t, of course.  But there are reasons behind it, old habits that are hard to break. He would know.

“Then what are you doing?” Pam retorts.

“Nothing,” Castiel mutters with a shrug of his shoulders before placing his Coke back on the table. “Feeling sorry for myself?”

Pam rolls her eyes. “Well that’s obvious.” She’s quiet for a minute before giving him a smile he knows all too well, making him groan. “Wanna ditch?”

“We did that yesterday,” he tells her with a shake of his head. “Probably not a good idea to do it again. I could practically hear my mom on the other end of the phone this morning.”

“And your point Castiel?” You’re passing everything with flying colours. Plus you share your last class with Dean. Do you really want to spend an hour with him after what just happened?”

Pam has a good point, a valid one but he knows he can’t avoid Dean forever. He’s tried. “Can’t,” he sighs.

“Spoilsport,” Pam says sticking her tongue out at him.

Castiel flips her off before opening his book and effectively ending _that_ conversation. He’s just getting into things when Charlie slams her tray down on the table, causing both of them to look at her, mouths hanging open.

“You okay Char?” he asks.

“Just peachy,” Charlie exclaims, opening up her snack pack. She glances at in Castiel’s direction before huffing and dropping the pudding cup back on her tray. “I’m fine, quit staring at me.”

“Am I missing something?” Pam asks with an arch of her brow.

“Yes,” Castiel replies with a weary chuckle and Charlie glares at him. “What?” he asks with a shrug of his shoulders. “You’re the one who told Pam about what happened with Dean. It’s only fair.”

“Someone going to fill me in?” Pam grumbles.

“Charlie’s in love with Jo,” Castiel says easily and earns a swift kick under the table.

“Tell me something I don’t already know,” Pam sighs. “My best friends are idiots.”

“Thanks,” Castiel and Charlie say in unison.

“Whatever you know I love you guys. So want to ditch and tell me all about it?” she asks Charlie.

Charlie nods, “Yeah.”

“You two are never going to graduate in June at this rate,” Castiel points out. 

Pam rolls her eye as she slips from the table, dragging Charlie up with her. “Enjoy your class with Dean,” she sing-songs before taking off.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Castiel takes his time at his locker, gathering his necessary books at a leisurely pace. He’s really in no big rush to get to Mrs. Harvelle’s class, even if she will make him stay after class for being late. He just can’t seem to make himself pick up the pace. He tucks his books under his arm and forces himself to head down the hallway. He considers ditching, turning around and seeking out Charlie and Pam. Actually he probably would have done just that if he hadn’t already been standing in the doorway to his English class.

“Castiel,” Mrs. Harvelle beams. “Thank you for deciding to gift us with your presence.”

He gives her a shaky smile before bee lining it for his desk. Oh God, he just wants to go home.  He drops his books down and slides into his chair, trying desperately not to look in Dean’s direction. It’s not an easy feat, not when Dean’s desk is one away from his. He drags his bottom lip through his teeth, prays that this hour goes by quickly.

When the bell rings signalling the beginning of class, Castiel tries his best to pay attention.

“We’re going to try something a little different,” Mrs. Harvelle tells him as she sits down on the edge of her desk. “Seeing as getting you all to read a book individually seems to be next to impossible, I’m going to pair you up.” 

The class groans.

“It’s only as bad as you make it,” she chuckles. “I’ve taken the liberty of assigning your partners. You all will be reading books written at different times but are still part of the curriculum, at some point anyways.  You’ll have two weeks to finish the novel and one week to complete a ten minute slide show presentation that will include a biography of the author and a summary of your book. I want you guys to find the analogy in your novels and I want you to explain it to me.

“You have three weeks total. If extensions are needed, I expect more than a days’ notice, folks.”

Castiel watches as Mrs. Harvelle twists and reaches for a piece of paper on her desk. His heart is beating double time and he’s not exactly sure why. 

“Milligan and Hendrickson you’ll both be reading To Kill a Mockingbird. Play nice now boys.” 

Castiel tunes out, has to because he can’t hear anything over the drumming of his pulse. He’s clammy, nervous and fuck if he knows why. Okay maybe he does but surely it’s not going to happen right? Mrs. Harvelle wouldn’t really be so cruel as to pair them together would she? It’s not like she doesn’t know them, doesn’t know their history. After all Jo and Dean are best friends and Jo’s her daughter. He swallows hard, being pulled out of his own reverie by the harsh reality that yeah… Mrs. Harvelle would.

“Dean and Cas,” she says pleasantly, glancing between them both and taking the small satisfaction that fills her when both boys jump. “You will be reading One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. You’ll have no qualms with that will you?”

Castiel can’t fucking breathe.

“No ma’am,” he hears Dean mutter.

“Good,” Mrs. Harvelle says with a nod before continuing with her list. Castiel just really wants the floor to swallow him up. After everything, after last night he’s not sure if he can do this. He risks at glance at Dean, notices the tense shoulders and the way the light that’s usually in his eyes isn’t there. He wants to put it back.

He’s so fucked.

“Okay, come and grab your books guys.”

 

 

~ ~ ~

 

Dean

 

He’s going to find Jo and when he does he’s going to throttle her. This is all her doing; he’s not that fucking stupid. He grabs two books without glancing at Mrs. Harvelle and makes his way towards Castiel who’s still sitting stock still in his desk. He fucking hates this. He drops the book down in front of Castiel before taking the empty desk beside him.

“You know,” he says quietly, “I don’t like this anymore than you do.”  He swears the corners of Castiel’s lips curve a little bit. “But you know Ellen isn’t going to switch us just because,” he gestures between them, “of whatever is going on between us.”

“So you suggest we just suck it up?” Castiel asks, tone a little sharper than he had intended.

Dean nods his head. “Yeah,” he mutters. “I guess so.” 

“Fine,” Castiel replies. 

And then because Dean can’t help it, he reaches out and places a hand over Castiel’s briefly. “We’re going to be okay.” He doesn’t wait for Castiel’s response before unfolding himself from the desk and making his way towards his own. 

 _We’re going to be okay._  

Where the hell did that come from? 

 

~ ~ ~

 

It’s not hard to find Jo, not when she’s leaning against her locker with that oh-so-satisfied look on her face. He scowls, eyes shooting daggers in her direction.  “Nice one,” he hisses as he throws open his locker, dumps his books into his bag before slamming it closed.

Jo gives him a smirk. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit,” he shoots back before turning on his heel and heading for the exit. He doesn’t glance behind him to see if she’s following.

“Maybe it will give you guys a chance to work this out,” Jo mutters, falling into step beside him. “You guys used to be really close.”

“The word here being _used_ ,” he seethes and steps out in the afternoon sun. The temperatures dropped a bit, still hot but a little more comfortable. Maybe this heat wave is about to come to an end. He really fucking hopes so. “Just butt out okay Jo?”

“Can’t really do anything about it now can I?” she points out with a huff of frustration. “Plus mom was going to do it anyway.”

“I’m sure,” he says with an eye room as he unlocks the Impala and slides in, unlocking Jo’s door.  

Jo chuckles. “What would you do without me?”

“Not get paired up with someone who is determined to hate me.”

“He doesn’t hate you Dean,” Jo says quietly as she buckles up and turns the radio on, leaves it low.

“Whatever,” he retorts and backs out his parking spot. “You see Charlie today?”

“No,” Jo shakes her head. “She seems pretty determined to steer clear. Ditched again today.”

“Ha. I’m surprised Cas wasn’t with them.”

“Maybe he wanted to see you?” Jo offers, making Dean laugh.

“I really doubt that Jo.”

“Stranger things have happened.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, confused.

“Don’t worry about it,” she tells him. “Just take me home. I’m so very done with today.”

“Or we could go out for pizza?” Dean suggests. “My treat?”  He’s not ready to go home yet, doesn’t want to be left alone with his thoughts as he wonders how the hell he’s going to survive the next three weeks. “Please?”

“If you’re paying I definitely can’t refuse,” Jo agrees. “Let’s go Winchester.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

Castiel

 

He’s not freaking out. Nope, not even a little bit. Okay maybe he is.  Dropping his bag, Castiel falls face first into his bed, huffs a breath of frustration as he does so. This is so not happening, right? This is not good. Nope not at all.

Flipping over onto his back he stares at his ceiling, counts the little glow in the dark stars he stuck up there years ago. They don’t glow anymore, not really. They’ve dimmed out, faded with time. He supposes they’re a lot like his relationship with Dean. The comparison is so ridiculous he’s torn between laughing and crying. Maybe, just like the glow in the dark stars, his own pain will fade until it’s nothing more than a distant memory.

Yeah, he thinks bitterly, good luck.

“Castiel are you home?” a soft voice asks from his closed door, one he instantly recognizes as his mom’s. He considers ignoring her, feigning sleep before deciding that’s not really fair. So he sits up and crosses his legs underneath him.

“Yeah,” he replies. “Come on in Mom.”

Amelia opens the door slowly, peeking her head inside before fully stepping into the room. “Hey honey,” she says, coming to sit down beside him. “How was your day?”

“It was okay,” he answers. 

Amelia sighs before reaching over to take Castiel’s hand in her own, thumb rubbing soothingly at his skin. “You know you can talk to me about anything right?”

“Mom,” he breathes, hating this, “you know I do.”

“Just reminding you. You’re so distracted lately, unhappy and I don’t like it.” She cups his chin with her free hand, forcing Castiel to meet her gaze. “I’m worried about you. I’m worried about Dean too.”

And this is exactly the conversation he’s been avoiding for three years now. He doesn’t want to have it, doesn’t want to acknowledge it, not to his mom.  His friends sure, but they’re different. Amelia’s been just as much of a mother to Dean as she is to him, her own son and Castiel desperately doesn’t want to take that away from him. He doesn’t want to put her in the position where she feels like she has to pick sides, it would destroy him and hurt Dean.

“Mom,” he starts, “I don’t really want to talk about this.”

“You’ve been saying that for years Castiel,” she points out, “and I’m tired of it.”

“There’s nothing to say,” he tells her before pulling away and walking towards his bedroom window just as Dean’s Impala pulls in to the driveway next door. Just his luck right? He tunes his mom out, instead focusing on the person who used to be his best friend in the world climb out of his car and walk with slumped shoulders towards the porch. 

He’s not the Dean he used to know, not anymore. He’s…sadder. Castiel wonders if somehow that’s his doing. He turns away from the window, knowing that he can’t be. Could he?

_Give your head a shake Castiel._

“I don’t know what happened between the two of you,” Amelia says quietly, causing Castiel to whip around at stare at her, mouth hanging open. “What? I’m not blind. I know my own son.” She slips from the bed to stand in front of him, cups his face in her hands. “I can see what it’s doing to you and I don’t like it.” 

“Mom-”

“No, Castiel,” Amelia shakes her head, hands dropping. “Whatever is going on, it has to stop. You’re skipping classes, you’re withdrawing and missing curfews. I’ve put up with this behaviour for too long, baby. You need to fix it, whatever it is that needs fixing. You need to talk to Dean.”

Castiel steps away from his mom, lowers himself back down on his bed. _Talk to Dean_. She says it like it’s the easiest thing in the world to do. It isn’t and he isn’t sure if he can do it—if he even wants to do it. But instead of telling her that, he finds himself saying, “I’ll try. I’ll be better.”

It’s the only thing he can do.

Amelia nods. “That’s all I ask for,” she murmurs and leans down to press a kiss to his hair. 

~ ~ ~

Saturdays for Castiel Novak consist nothing more than reruns of Friends and popcorn. It’s the one day of the week that he likes to spend alone, holed up in his bedroom as he pretends that he’s not feeling sorry for himself. It’s also the one night of the week that his friends don’t have to drag his moping ass around. He doesn’t really care about the parties he’s missing, or the pizza that’s being eaten without him as Pam and Charlie go ahead with their _girl’s night_ sans Castiel. He’s quite content with his own company thank you very much.

Reaching for the remote he turns up the volume before making himself comfortable on his bed. He’s spread out on his stomach, bowl of popcorn at his side and clad in nothing more than a pair of sweats and a ratty wife beater. What? He can totally rock the bum look. Once he’s settled, Castiel hits play.

Who would have thought he would be interrupted? And by the last person he expected too.

 “Hey,” Dean says awkwardly as he steps in to Castiel’s room. The door had been open after all.

Castiel hits the pause button, brow furrowing. “Hi,” he replies.

“I, uh, just,” Dean trails off, scratching the back of his neck. It’s something he does when he’s unsure of himself and it makes Castiel’s heart ache. “Thought I’d come by.”

“Oh,” Castiel says and scrambles to sit up. He’s torn between asking Dean what he’s doing here and telling him to sit the fuck down and stop being weird. It’s stupid considering he’s the one being stupid. For both their sakes, he reminds himself.

“Figured maybe we could talk about our assignment?” Dean adds, feeling like an idiot.

Castiel frowns. “On a Saturday?” If he knows Dean, and he’s pretty sure he does, Dean likes to avoid homework at all costs. 

 “Might as well get started?” he shrugs. “But if you don’t want to that’s cool.”

“Not really,” Castiel admits but he shifts on the bed. He doesn’t want Dean to leave and he doesn’t exactly want to work on homework either. He pats the space beside him, figuring what the hell. If they’re going to be working together they might as well try to be friendly.  “Watch some Friends with me?”

Dean gives Castiel a small smile before sliding in beside him. “Sure Cas.”

It’s not as awkward as Castiel thought it would be. Sure, the tension is still there but it’s almost comfortable. It’s not like old times by any means but…it’s nice. If his fingers itch to twine themselves with Dean he ignores it and if the way Dean accidently brushes against him causes his skin to grow hot, he ignores that too because if they have any shot at completing this assignment they can’t afford another mishap like the one last night. 

He’s not sure how long they watch Friends for, doesn’t even realize they went through the whole disc until the blue credits roll up on the screen and he’s forced to hit stop. Huh, he thinks. He can’t even remember what the last episode was. 

“This is nice,” Dean mumbles.

Castiel glances at him, takes in his green eyes and freckles and can’t help the smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. “Yeah,” he agrees. “It wasn’t bad.”

Dean flips him off and suddenly it’s like everything that’s led up to this moment has been nothing more than a bad dream. “You want to watch more?” he asks.

Dean nods his head at the same moment his phone goes off and he pulls it out with a whispered curse. “Oh,” he mutters as he sends off a quick reply and climbs off the bed. “Scratch that Cas, I gotta go. Um,” he pauses, unsure of what to say or do now. “Forgot I had plans with Michael.”

“Oh. Another time then.”  Why does he feel like his heart is breaking all over again? Shouldn’t it be done doing that?

Dean steps forward, looks like he’s going to kiss Cas before he stops, realizing what he had just been about to do. Some habits you can’t quite quit.  He gives Castiel a shaky smile. “See ya Cas.”

Castiel watches him go, wonders why it had been so easy to forget for just a moment how things really are. 


	5. Chapter 5

Dean

_It’s become somewhat of a tradition to spend lazy summer days on the beach, spread out on towels and getting sunburnt. They’ve been coming here for as long as Dean can remember, just him, Sammy, Castiel and Uncle Bobby. He’s not really sure when the beach house went from being something they rented to something they owned, but Dean’s definitely not complaining. How can he when he’s got his two best friends by his side and miles of lake in front of him?_

_Collapsing down on his towel, Dean stares up at the clear blue sky. Castiel’s beside him, flipped over onto his stomach with some kind of book in front of him. He can only assume it’s something that his little brother lent him. Sammy and his advanced reading. He rolls over, moves the book back a little so he can see the title and smirks._ The Outsiders _, Dean’s lost track of how many times Sam’s reread that book._

_“You gonna put that thing down and come swimming?” Dean asks, with a little bit of a whine to his voice._

_Castiel looks up from his book and gives Dean that smile that puts his stomach into knots. “After this chapter,” he answers._

_Dean sighs before rolling back over and resting his hands underneath his head. He tries not to think about how there’s only a couple weeks of summer left and soon they’ll be in eighth grade. One more year until high school and it’s both terrifying and exciting at the same time. He’s scared that things won’t be the same between them anymore, excited to make new friends. He hates that he can’t predict the future._

_“Dean you’re frowning,” Castiel murmurs as he closes his book and sits up._

_“Am not,” Dean protests as he mirrors Castiel’s pose. “You ready to go swimming now?”_

_Castiel tilts his head to the side, studies Dean for a moment before nodding his head. “Yeah, let’s go.”_

_They spend the rest of their summer just like this, dancing in and out of the waves and exchanging playful taunts as Sam and Bobby play Frisbee in the sand._

_Then, he thought it was the best summer of his life._

_~ ~ ~_

 

_Two days left and as far as Dean’s concerned it sucks balls. All he did was blink and now it’s the end of the summer when really, it feels like they just got here yesterday. He sighs as he takes in his surroundings, sand digging into is arms. Miles of white sand and trees that could swallow them whole. He likes it out here, likes the way the air smells, tastes. He hates that in a few short hours they’ll be forced inside, told to pack because tomorrow they’ll be on the road bright and early._

_There’s something he hates more though, and that’s leaving here without telling Castiel what’s on his mind. He’s struggled with it all summer, fumbled with the words and cursed endlessly when they continued to get stuck on his tongue. There’s never been a right time, never been alone enough and he knows he’s stalled in every way possible, but this is Castiel and he should be able to tell him anything right? Then why the hell does his chest hurt and his hands sweat every damn time he gets so close to saying it?_

_His gaze slips from the crashing waves to the boy sitting next to him, legs crossed and head bowed as he reads_ whatever _. It’s the same position he’s seen Castiel in all summer, lips pursed together, brow drawn in concentration and it’s kind of silly that they only word he can use to describe his friend right now is_ beautiful _. He shakes his head, chuckles under his breath. Yeah, he’s kind of ridiculous.  Castiel shifts and the hem of his shorts ride up and Dean feels his mouth go bone dry. It’s been happening a lot lately._

_He wants to reach out, touch, and let his fingers brush at that exposed skin. Of course he won’t, can’t because there’s a reason why he dragged Castiel out here so early.  Touching would only be another distraction- not that Castiel isn’t a distraction enough as he is. He swallows hard, tries to arrange the words in his head so they don’t come out a jumbled miss.  Only when he gets them right does he open his mouth and-_

_-says nothing because the sounds of approaching laughter have left him speechless, frustrated. Dammit. Summer’s over, everyone else left days ago and he had been so sure they’d be the only ones out here.  He groans, causes Castiel to look up from his book curiously._

_“Are you okay Dean?” he asks, and God Dean is so far from it but he nods his head anyway._

_“Yeah,” he mutters, pushes up so that he’s mirroring Castiel’s position._

_Castiel frowns and he puts the bookmark into the middle of it, closes it before reaching out to wipe away the sand on Dean’s back. “Should have brought a towel,” he tells Dean._

_Dean shrugs. He’d meant to, but he’d kind of been in a rush. “Must have left it in the kitchen.”_

_Castiel grins, the one that puts his stomach into knots and he kind of wants to lean it, kiss it away. “I’ll share mine.”_

_Always the sharer.  “Thanks Cas.”_

_All efforts of not being distracted are suddenly shot out the damn window because Castiel is looking at him, head titled and goddammit. He hates that he’s being a coward right now, hates that they’re not alone the way he wants them to be and what the hell is he afraid of? Castiel isn’t going to turn him down, he knows this without a doubt in his mind. So what’s he waiting for?_

_“Cas,” he starts, heart knocking painfully against his ribs. “I-…”_

_“Hi there.”_

_Dean glances up and away from Castiel, unable to stop the scowl that twists his features. “Uh, hi,” he mutters. He’s pretty sure that if looks could kill, Blondie and her friend wouldn’t stand a chance. He feels Castiel’s elbow in his side and forces himself to relax—but not before turning that scowl towards him. Seriously he’d just been about to…_

_“Are you two together?” Blondie’s friend asks and something about the way she says it has Dean’s stomach tightening in anger. Though her face may not betray her disgust, it’s crystal clear in her wording. And really, it’s not like they haven’t dealt with their fair share of assholes but…he glances at Castiel, hates the way he looks so uncomfortable—especially about this._

_It feels like forever, the question hanging between all of them unanswered and Dean’s damned if he’s going to be the one to answer it. It’s a stupid question. They are together, who gives a fuck right? Except maybe…he shakes his head, no Castiel doesn’t care._

_“Dean and I are just friends,” Castiel finally mumbles and it’s like someone took away his ability to breathe._

_He looks away from Castiel, away from the girls and stares out at the waves as his mind tries to process what Castiel had just said. Just friends… Is that all they were? He draws his knees up to his chest, rests his chin there and though he can hear the girls sitting down to join them, can feel the curious eyes of Blondie’s friend on him, he doesn’t pay them any attention. How can he, when Castiel had told them they were just friends? Right when he’d…_

_He can’t do this, can’t sit here and pretend he’s okay, fine with Castiel’s stupid answer. Pushing to his feet he ignores the look Castiel gives him. “I should go back,” he says, hates the way his voice comes out thicker than he intended._

_“I’ll come with you,” Castiel tells him._

_Dean shakes his head, gestures to the girls. “No, stay and visit.” What he doesn’t say is that:_ we’re just friends Cas, you don’t have to come with me.

_He can’t believe he’d been stupid enough to believe that they were more._

 

~ ~ ~

 

Things changed after that. It wasn’t noticeable at first, Dean had been able to trick himself into thinking that everything was okay but eventually he hadn’t been able to tune out the six words that had ruined everything. And now, standing in front of his locker, debating on whether or not to ditch Ellen’s class, he’s wondering who started pulling away first.

He grabs his binders, his copy of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest and thinks that maybe it had been a mutual thing. Something they decided to do together indirectly. He sighs, closes his locker with a little bit more force than needed and heads in the direction of Ellen’s classroom. Whatever happened, he decides sullenly, it fucking sucks.

With a shake of his head, Dean forces himself not to think about that right now. 

He stops outside of Ellen’s classroom, silently cursing Jo’s mom for meddling in his business even if he knows she’s just trying to help. He hates it.

“You going to join us today Mr. Winchester?” Ellen asks, coming to lean against the doorway. Her voice is teasing but her eyes are searching. 

Dean finds himself nodding his head despite everything that his heart is telling him. “Yeah,” he mumbles and makes his way to the empty desk beside Castiel. 

It’s not until he’s seated that he lets himself look up and across. “Hey,” he says, hates the way his voice holds a slight quiver because suddenly he’s back in Castiel’s room, watching reruns of Friends and trying not to notice the way things felt like they used to, like maybe they could be those two people again. He wants that, more than words could ever possibly describe.

“Hey,” Castiel replies.

Dean wants to apologize for last night but realizes how stupid that would be. Instead he opens his book, pretends to read until the bell rings because technically he doesn’t have anything to apologize for.

 

~ ~ ~

Castiel

 

It’s like every part of Castiel is aware of Dean sitting beside him and try as he might, he can’t focus on anything else. Not the book in front of him, or the muffled conversation going on around them.  Instead, it’s like his entire being zeroes in on the tilt of Dean’s head, the way he chews on the end of his pen and the slight bounce of his leg under the desk. Every moment, catalogued into Castiel’s brain against his will, against his better judgment.

He glances at Dean under his lashes and hates the way his stomach tightens.  Saturday feels like years ago, rather than a mere forty-eight hours and it surprises him how much has changed since then, yet it really hasn’t. Dean’s still unattainable, attached and though he can spout off stuff about how they’re going to be okay, but Castiel just can’t believe that. Actually he won’t, because he’s not the same naïve little kid that he used to be. 

They won’t work, this can’t work and he’s an idiot for letting this go on for even a second. He shifts, considers closing his book and going to talk to Mrs. Harvelle about switching partners, or at the very least continuing this assignment on his own. At this point, he doesn’t really care which.

Sighing, he closes his book.

“Don’t do it,” Dean whispers, causing Castiel to jump. He hadn’t meant to say it, at least not out loud and he’s not sure who’s more surprised, him or Castiel. But seeing him sitting there, fidgeting and brows drawing together, Dean knows immediately what he’s thinking. He’s going to ask to switch partners and Dean can’t stand the thought of it.

“What?” Castiel asks, turning to face Dean. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Dean tells him, surprising Castiel, who had somehow convinced himself that Dean didn’t know him anymore, at least not really. “I know you. Just don’t okay?”

 

“Why not?” he finds himself asking when what he really should be saying is that _he has to_.

 

“Because I miss you.”

 

The answer is so simple, so honest that Castiel’s taken aback and by the time he’s recovered the bell is ringing and Dean is disappearing into the body of students as they make their way out of the classroom. 

 

 _Because I miss you_.

 

 

~ ~ ~

 

 

“You need to rewind,” Charlie says as she puts a little more sugar than necessary in her coffee. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

 

Castiel chews on his bottom lip slightly as he stares down into his own coffee, tries to use the noise of the crowded shop to distract him. He should have known it would be a useless tactic with Charlie, who is now waving a hand in front of his face.

 

“Spill, Novak,” she tells him.

 

“You know how Mrs. Harvelle paired us together to work on some project?” he asks and Charlie nods. “Well he sort of came over on Saturday to work on it and we ended up watching TV instead.”

 

“And?” Charlie prompts.

 

“And nothing,” he admits. “We just watched some TV. It felt like it used to Charlie.” And he wants it back, all of it. 

 

Charlie sighs as she wraps her hands around her cup. “You should just tell him how you feel Cas.”

 

Castiel shakes his head. “I can’t do that.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“For the same reason you’re not telling Jo how you feel,” Castiel mutters. “And Dean has Michael.”

“Good points,” Charlie admits as she sits back, looking as equally defeated as he feels.

 

“You still avoiding Jo?” he asks softly and watches as his friend’s shoulders slump.

 

“Yeah… but I’m not sure how much longer I can keep it up Cas. I miss her,” Charlie murmurs. 

 

“I know the feeling.”

 

And he does, he misses Dean more than he can possibly say but what the hell is he supposed to do about that? He can give Charlie advice, tell her to lay it all on the line just for the sake of being honest with yourself but when it comes right down to it, what gives him the right to give that kind of advice if he’s not willing to take it for himself?

 

“Do you think you’ll ever tell Dean?” Charlie asks quietly, pulling Castiel from his reverie.

 

“I don’t know,” he answers, running the pad of his thumb over the rim of his mug.

 

He would be lying if he said he hasn’t thought about it, considering putting it all on the end. And if he ended up ruining what little friendship he had left with Dean, well that would be better than the alternative. Except that it really wouldn’t be and as much as he hates to admit it, he would rather cling to the illusion he’s let himself hold onto for so long rather than give it all up completely.

 

But maybe…. No, he shakes his head, not letting that thought go any further and quietly sips on his coffee.

 

 

~ ~ ~

 

Castiel’s not really sure how he ended up here, with his hands in pockets and waiting awkwardly for someone to answer the door. He had been going home, had been on his front porch before he doubled back and found himself on Dean’s doorstep. And it’s not like he can use the excuse of homework for his being there because he left his books at school. He’s already finished the book so what’s the point?

 

He shifts, considers knocking again when the door finally opens to reveal a very tall Sam Winchester. Jesus when the hell did that happen? 

 

“Hi Sam,” he says, tries to keep himself from feeling out of place.

 

“Cas!” Sam beams as he pulls Castiel inside. “How the hell have you been?”

 

“Good,” he lies and finds himself being pulled in for a quick, hard hug. It’s hard not to notice how Sam’s slightly taller than him. “When did you get so tall?”

 

Sam shrugs his shoulders. “I ate my vegetables.”

 

Castiel rolls his eyes. “Is Dean home?”

 

“Yeah he’s upstairs,” Sam answers and gestures for Castiel to head on up. “He’s kind of in a mood so brace yourself.”

 

Castiel nods his head and thanks Sam for the warning before he heads upstairs. He knows their house as well as he knows his own, if not better. The stairs creak under his weight in all the places he remembers and he finds it oddly comforting. It calms his steadily beating heart and dries is clammy palms, at least until he’s standing in front of Dean’s closed bedroom debating on whether or not to knock or just turn around and pretend this never happened.

 

Unfortunately or fortunately (depending on how you look at it), the choice is taken away from him and he’s face to face to Dean with not a damn thing to say.

 

“What are you doing here?” Dean asks eventually, the first to break the palpable tension between them. 

 

“I don’t know,” Castiel answers, voice quiet, a little shaky. “I was going home…and then I found myself here.”

 

Dean nods before opening his door wider and stepping back.  Castiel steps around him, hates the way it feels like coming home. This is definitely a mistake, he’s sure of it. Yet right now he can’t really bring himself to care.

 

“You were right about earlier,” he murmurs, needing to kill the silence that is threatening to swallow them. “I was going to tell Mrs. Harvelle I couldn’t work with you.”

 

“Okay,” Dean says as he sits down on his bed. He makes no move to ask Castiel to join him and Castiel’s thankful for that. He’s too restless to sit down anyway. “Why?”

 

“I can’t answer that,” Castiel whispers.

 

“Why not?”  Dean demands and there’s no mistaking the anger, the frustration behind him. Castiel hates himself for it.

 

“I just can’t and even if I did it wouldn’t change anything.”

 

“You don’t know that,” Dean tells him and suddenly he’s not sitting down anymore.  He grabs Castiel’s arm lightly, turns him around.  “I meant what I said earlier.”

 

Castiel nods his head, eyes closing against the warmth of Dean’s hand. “I know and I miss you too Dean.”

 

“But?”

 

“But I don’t think I can do this again,” and he steps away from Dean and to the window. “I’ll work with you because we were assigned together as partners, but we can’t be friends anymore.”

 

“I think that’s bullshit,” Dean yells. “You felt it last night Cas, I know you did. It felt normal, like it did when we were growing up. I need that back Cas. I need you back in my life and you’re a damn liar if you’re going to stand there and tell me you don’t want it too.”

 

“I’m not going to deny that I don’t,” Castiel says carefully, choosing his words wisely, “because I do. But there are reasons why I can’t, why we can’t.”

Dean shakes his head. “Try Cas,” he pleads.

Castiel opens his mouth, the _I can’t_ just on the tip of his tongue before getting stuck and he sighs, running a hand through his mussed hair. He should say no, stand his ground because he knows without a shadow of a doubt how this is going to end. But instead of saying that, he finds himself clutching at that last little bit of hope and mumbling, “That’s all I can do.” 


	6. Chapter 6

 

Castiel 

__

 

In some ways it was easy to fall back into the familiar and in others it was hard.

 

Castiel’s feelings for Dean were still there, just below the surface and some days he felt like quitting. Of course he doesn’t, there’s always something pulling him back. At first it had been the project and then it had been Dean’s smile and then his laugh until Castiel was forced to face the fact that he could no longer live a life without Dean in it.

 

“You’re both fucking idiots,” Pam declares suddenly, pulling him out of his head and effectively reminding him that he’s supposed to be having dinner with his friends and not silently hating himself. He rolls his eyes.

 

Charlie though is obviously taken a little by surprise.

 

“Hey,” she cries, “what the hell did I do?”

 

Pam waves a hand between the two of them. “Bunch of love sick idiots who are living in denial. You two need to grow a pair of balls and just tell them.”

 

Charlie growls. “Shut up Pam.”

 

“No,” Pam says, surprisingly calm, eyebrow cocked at Charlie.  “I have refrained from saying this for a long time.” She pauses, gaze glancing back and forth between the two of them. “You two need to pull your heads out of your goddamn asses and come clean.”

She holds up a hand, effectively stopping the stream of excuses before they could flow. “I’ve heard it all,” she tells them. “Save it.” She waits until they’re slumped back in their seats, faces drawn in a pout. “Now tell me, how is what you’re doing fair to everyone involved?”

She turns to Castiel, stares at him pointedly before continuing, “You’ve known Dean for what, basically ever? Do you really think he deserves this?”

Castiel frowns, back straightening. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Pam rolls her eyes. “You guys were tight,” she explains, voice dripping with sarcasm, “had this grand romantic love story that started at the wee ages and then things changed. Now why did they change?”

“You know why,” Castiel grumbles, arms folding over his chest as he stares at the table. 

“Because Dean started dating,” Pam says, hand wrapping around coffee, “and you needed to put the distance between the two of you in order to keep truckin’ on. But Dean doesn’t know why you pulled away Cas.” Her voice gentles that, hand reaching out to give his folded arms a comforting squeeze. “He’s hurting, just as much as you are.”

Castiel sighs, hands dropping when Pam pulls hers away. She’s right, he knows she is but… “It’s different.”

Pam raises a brow at that. “How?”

“I’m in love with him.”

“And how do you know he’s not in love with you?” she retorts, has the pleasure of watching Castiel’s mouth open and close, says nothing. “That’s what I thought. You can’t know Cas, not until you talk to him, tell him how you feel.”

“Easier said than done,” he tells her, shifting and running a tired hand over his face.  

Pam shrugs. “Probably, but you’re not going to have the answers you need if you’re not going to talk about it. And that goes for both of you.”  She turns around in her chair so that she’s looking at Charlie head on and Castiel feels the tension ease out of him, more than happy not to be under her spotlight anymore.

“You’re doing exactly what our dear friend Castiel is doing,” she murmurs. “You’re avoiding the lovely Joanna Beth because it is easier than dealing with your feelings for her. Talk to her Char.”  

“Our situations are different,” Charlie defends, hand gesturing wildly between herself and Castiel. “At least Cas has a chance with Dean. Me and Jo? Never going to happen.”

Pam’s quiet for a second before nodding. “Maybe you’re right,” she agrees. “But you still have to talk to her about it. It’s only fair, Charlie. Put it all out there and see what happens. If she feels the same, awesome. If not, then you guys have some things to work out.” 

“I hate when you’re right,” Charlie mumbles. 

Pam grins, sitting back in her chair feeling pretty damn pleased with herself. She knows her friends’ problems are far from being solved, but maybe, just maybe she helped kick their sorry asses in the right direction.  “You’ll thank me one day.”

“When hell freezes over,” Castiel mutters, his own grin tugging at the corner of his lips, surprised to find himself feeling a little better about things. 

For now.

“So,” Pam drawls, “there’s a party at Victor’s and everyone’s gonna be there….”

 

 

~ ~ ~

 

Dean 

__

 

“Dean, are you even listening to me?” Michael asks, voice clipped in annoyance.

 

Dropping his phone down next to him on the bed, Dean glances at Michael. There’s an apology on the tip of his tongue but there’s something in Michael’s eyes that has him retracting it.  Maybe it’s the jealousy he sees there, the silent accusation; whatever it is though has him realizing he has nothing to apologize for.  

 

“Huh?” he asks instead and hates the way Michael’s lips draw into a tight line.

 

“I asked,” Michael repeats through tight lips, “if we were still going to Victor’s party tonight.”

 

“Oh,” Dean murmurs as he crosses his legs and picks up his phone again. He can’t fight the little tug at the corner of his lips when he sees he has a new message from Castiel. “Yeah we are.”

 

He doesn’t see Michael’s frown or the way his hand balls into a fist, he’s too busy falling in love again. Not that he’ll admit that’s what he’s doing. 

 

“I’m going to go home and get ready,” Michael says after a while as he tosses down the book Dean’s been reading for English. “Pick me up at nine?”

 

“Okay,” Dean says and watches as Michael closes his bedroom door behind him.

 

He wonders how much longer they’re going to last.

 

 

~ ~ ~

 

__

Not usually one to care too much about his appearance, Dean finds half the contents of his closet on his bed and no idea how the hell they got there. He’s just going to a party after all, with Michael. A party that Castiel will be at. And no that has absolutely nothing to do with anything, at least he doesn’t think so.

 

He huffs in frustration as he rummages through his clothes, picks out a pair of faded jeans with a rip in the knee and a slim fit black t-shirt with a slight V. It’s the same outfit he had picked out originally but no one needs to know that. He pulls off his current shirt and slips out of his pants just as a knock sounds at the door. He waits until he’s fully dressed again before calling out, “Come in.”

 

“Hey asshole,” Jo says, stopping head in her tracks when she spots the mess. “What the hell happened here?”

 

“Nothing,” Dean mutters, embarrassed. He grabs a pile of clothes and dumps them into his closet.

 

“You do know we are just going to Victor’s right?” she asks skeptically as Dean gathers more clothes in his hands.

 

“Shut up Jo,” Dean growls. 

 

Jo rolls her eyes but flops down on the now clear bed. “Whatever Winchester,” she says easily, pretending to pick at her nails. “So you want to tell me what my best friend has been up to lately?”

 

“Nothing,” Dean answers. “Just busy with this English project that your mom assigned me.”

 

Jo grins. “You mean the one where she also paired you up with Cas?”

 

“Don’t look so pleased,” Dean tells her as he comes to sit down beside her. “But yes.”

 

“I guess I can forgive Cas for stealing my best friend away from me,” she chuckles. “How’s that going? It feels like we haven’t talked in ages.”

 

Dean rolls his eyes as he wraps an arm around her shoulders, tugs her clothes. “We talked last night,” he points out.

 

“Yeah but we talked more about me than you,” she reminds him.  “So how are things between you and Cas?”

 

“Complicated, but a good complicated I guess,” he says, thinking.

 

Things between him and Castiel definitely weren’t what they used to be and maybe they weren’t meant to be. They aren’t exactly the same people they used to be, walls have been built, feelings hurt and there are still so many unanswered questions.  He’s not pushing for answers though, figures it’s not worth risking everything they’ve been working so hard for.

 

“Care to explain?” Jo pushes and Dean laughs softly. This is exactly what he doesn’t want to do with Castiel, poke and prod for answers. Maybe in the future but definitely not right now. They don’t have the same friendship that he and Jo share and they haven’t in a long, long time.  He hopes to get that back eventually.

 

“We’re not exactly the same people we used to be,” he murmurs. “He’s keeping something from me.”

 

This causes Jo to sit up straighter. “Oh? Like what?”

 

Dean shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know. Whatever it is though, he’s not ready to tell me and I don’t want to push.  But….”

 

“You’re curious as all hell,” Jo finishes for him.

 

“Basically.”

 

They’re quiet for a beat before Jo asks, “How are things with Michael?”

 

Dean sighs. “Not good.” 

 

“I already know that,” Jo murmurs. “Are you going to break up with him?”

 

“I don’t know. Should I?” 

 

“Do you want to?” Jo counters.

 

“I don’t know,” he says again. 

 

Jo nods her head before leaning in and resting her head against Dean’s shoulder. “We make quite the pair.”

 

Dean doesn’t really have it in him to ask what she means by that. 

 

 

~ ~ ~

Castiel 

__

 

Pam wasn’t lying when she said everyone would be at Victor’s. Every square inch is crowded with bodies and the backyard, open and secluded in the middle of nowhere, was packed. If he had to guess he would say close to the whole school was here. He wasn’t sure if this was a comforting aspect or something he should be wary of. 

 

“Would you stop overthinking Cas,” Pam suggests as she puts an arm through his own and steers him in the direction of the front door. “We are going to have a fantastic time, aren’t we?” she asks, glaring pointedly at both of them.

 

“Sure,” Charlie says through clenched teeth. Castiel can tell she’s already on the lookout for Jo. He wishes he could do something to sooth her, but he’s feeling pretty much the damn same. Sure he’s on good terms with Dean again, slowly working their way up to be friends again but his heart still does that stupid pitter-patter every time he’s in close proximity to him. He figures it’s something he is just going to have to learn to deal with.

 

“Of course we are,” he tells Pam because it’s what she wants to hear.

 

“Good,” Pam grins.

 

“Let’s go get a drink,” Charlie suggests and Castiel nods his head eagerly. If he’s going to be forced to be here he definitely doesn’t have to be here sober. 

 

The path to the kitchen is a thin one and every step he takes Castiel is bumping into someone. Thankfully the booze in their cups makes them more than okay with being stepped on. He smiles at them, but doesn’t engage in conversation. They’re drunk, he is not.

 

“Here you go,” Charlie mutters as she hands Castiel a red plastic up. He lifts it to his nose and gives it a curious sniff. “It’s beer Cas.”

 

Castiel rolls his eyes. “Just making sure,” he tells her.

 

“Where did Pam disappear to already?” Charlie asks, her eyes scanning the crowd and Castiel does the same. He spots her in the far corner talking with someone that he definitely doesn’t recognize.

 

“I think she’s found her latest victim,” he chuckles and points in Pam’s direction. 

 

“Why is that not surprising?” Charlie mutters before tugging on Castiel’s hand. “C’mon lets go find somewhere to sit down. This party already blows.”

 

Castiel can’t even argue with that.

 

As far as he can tell Dean’s not here yet.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Dean 

__

 

Dean’s not exactly sure what the fuck is going on but Michael just went from being tense, cold to handsy and clingy in a blink of an eye the moment they walked through the door. Michael’s got his arm around his waist, fingers stroking soothingly and Dean’s scrambling to catch up. They hadn’t said more than two words on the ride over, so what the hell?  

 

It’s not until they’re in the living room, talking to Adam that realization hits. Michael is putting on a show and damn if that doesn’t piss him off even more. Frowning he steps away from Michael and mumbles something about getting them drinks.  He doesn’t really plan on doing anything of the sort, just suddenly finds himself needing the distance.

 

As he makes his way through the crowd of people, ignoring calls from people who want to talk to him, he thinks back to what Jo had asked him earlier. _Are you going to break up with him?_   He had been unsure then and now? Well now he thinks he has no other choice. He can’t fool himself into thinking that he’s happy with Michael and a big part of that has a lot to do with Castiel. 

 

Exhaling he reaches into one of the coolers, grabs a beer and untwists the cap before leaning against the counter. He tells himself he’s not scanning the sea of people for Castiel, that he’s just avoiding going back to see Michael. Okay, so maybe those two things are one and the same but it’s not like anyone is going to call him on that, right?

 

Bringing the bottle to his lips, Dean drinks deeply, lets the cool liquid attempt to soothe him. Too bad it just couldn’t make a damn decision for him. 

 

He rolls his eyes. Not that there would be much of a contest if push came to shove.

 

“He’s out back,” Jo says, sliding in bedside him and plucking the beer from his hands.

 

Dean jumps slightly, frowning as he snags his drink back. “Where the hell did you come from?”

 

Jo shrugs her shoulders. “Just floating around,” she murmurs. “Think I’m going to head out soon though.”

 

Dean nods his head in understanding. “No sign of Charlie yet?”

 

“No but I did find Pam sucking face with some guy I don’t even think goes to our school,” she chuckles. “But I’m just going to take off now.”

 

“Okay,” Dean murmurs before straightening and pulling Jo in for a hug. He’s about to pull away when he spots a familiar redhead in the crowd. “Actually,” he murmurs as he pulls away slowly, “the girl you’re looking for is right behind you.”

 

Jo glances behind her shoulder, eyes finding Charlie immediately. “Oh,” she breathes before giving Dean an unsure smile. “Okay,” she mumbles before walking away.

 

Even from a distance Dean watches as Charlie’s eyes widen in panic as she attempts to flee, unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how you look at it) Jo snags her arm just in time. 

Bringing the beer to his lips, Dean takes another drink and turns away. He’s kind of already forgotten that he came here with Michael.

 

~ ~ ~

Castiel 

 

 

Castiel likes this time of night, when it’s clear enough to see the stars completely and the sound of crickets drowns everything else out. Or at least they would have if they music hadn’t been so loud. But despite that, he finds he’s content to just sit outside, underneath the stars and pretending to be something he’s not really. And if he’s being honest, he really only came here tonight on the off chance of seeing Dean but after an hour he had kind of given up on that.

 

Plus, Dean would have come with Michael and that’s a whole bag of worms he isn’t exactly ready to deal with just yet.  He knows they’re still together, but none of the specifics and maybe it’s naïve of him to want to keep it that way, especially if they’re going to be friends again.

 

He’s just not ready for that, sue him.

 

Leaning back on his hands he dips his face up to the sky, lets himself drift away from the noise and people that surround him.

 

At least until someone sits down beside him.

 

“Hey,” Dean says as he rests his forearms on his thighs. Castiel can tell from his peripheral vision that he is looking up too. “Beautiful night.”

 

It’s a cheesy thing to say but he really can’t argue with it. “Yeah,” he murmurs, “it is.”

 

“I remember when we used to do this all the time when we were kids,” Dean comments. “Just you, me and the big open sky.”

 

“Are you having a good time?” he asks eventually, eyes roaming over a face he could describe in perfect detail when he’s ninety and can barely remember his own name.

 

“Not really,” Dean answers honestly with a shrug of his shoulders, polishing off the remainder of his beer. He sets it down beside him before turning to look at Castiel. “What about you?”

 

“Not really.”

 

“I remember when I kissed you for the first time,” Dean whispers.

 

Castiel feels his heart skip at the words, feels his stomach tighten. “We were like seven. You kissed my cheek,” he replies, tries his best to keep his voice from shaking.

 

Dean shrugs his shoulders. “Doesn’t matter,” he continues, “because it was pretty damn awesome.”

 

Castiel can remember it too and the shared pudding that had been on his face that started it all. Swallowing he asks, “Why are we talking about this?”

 

“Guess I just miss kissing you, is all,” Dean answers. 

 

“Oh,” Castiel says and feels stupid because of it. _The boy you love tells you he misses kissing you and that’s all you can come up with?_

 

Stepping off the porch Castiel makes his way deeper into the backyard and away from the people. He walks until he meets the place where grass turns into woods. He considers going in, getting lost in them and probably would have if there hadn’t been fingers wrapping around his wrist.

 

“Cas,” Dean mumbles and he’s close, so close Castiel can feel his heart racing against his back. 

Castiel whips around, eyes wide. “Don’t,” he whispers and there’s no denying the way his voice lacks conviction. It scares the crap out of him.

“Don’t what?” Dean asks, fingers still on Castiel’s wrist.  “Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll stop.”

“I can’t,” Castiel says, voice raising, panic setting in. “I can’t.”

“Thank God.”

And then Dean’s mouth is colliding with his own. 


	7. Chapter 7

Interlude: Charlie/Jo

****

Obviously she knew avoiding Jo wouldn’t last forever and that eventually she would have to take Pam’s advice. She just didn’t think it would happen this fast, but standing here alone with Jo, she knew she had no other choice. It no longer mattered that she wasn’t ready for this because there was no running away from it now.

Closing the door behind her, Charlie shoves her hands into the pockets of her jeans and struggles to find the right words. She doesn’t think the bluntness of _Hi Jo, I’ve been avoiding you because I’m kinda super crazy about you_ would be appreciated. But really though, how else is she supposed to say it?

“I know.”

Jo’s the first one to break the silence, startling Charlie. “What?” she asks.

“I know,” Jo repeats, softly, eyes unable to quite meet Charlie’s.

“Oh.” And isn’t that just great?

Jo nods, moving around the room no longer able to keep still. Eventually she stops, gaze looking onto Charlie. “I don’t know why you didn’t just tell me.”  She sighs, shaking her head sadly when Charlie goes to say something. “No I get why you didn’t, I do. I just…wish you would have said something.”

Charlie shrugs her should at that, plopping down on the end of the queen sized bed and takes to staring at the hardwood floor. It’s a lot easier than looking at Jo right now. “Doesn’t matter,” she mumbles. “I knew what would happen anyways.”

Frowning, Jo sits down beside her. “Charlie….”

“Jo don’t okay?” Charlie whispers, looking up at Jo from under her lashes. “It’s fine, I get it. Just spare me the ‘I’m flattered’ speech okay?”

“That’s not fair.”

“Maybe not,” Charlie admits sadly. “But either is being into your friend.”

Without thinking Jo turns to face Charlie, grabs her hand and holds on tightly. “I don’t want to lose you, Charlie.”

Charlie gives Jo a water smile before retracting her hand and unfolding herself from the bed. She makes it as far as the door before turning back. “You want. But I just…need some time okay?” 

Jo nods, it’s all she can do as she watches Charlie disappear into the hallway.  She thought this would make her feel better, clearing the air between them, but somehow it only makes her feel worse.  Dropping her head into her hands, she contemplates going out to find Dean but quickly snuffs out that thought.

Dean will be with Michael, or with Castiel and well, that’s just not something she’s equipped with handling right now. Rising to her feet, she steps out of the bedroom, pushing her way through a sea of bodies and makes her way outside.  


	8. Chapter 8

Castiel 

__

 

This isn’t anything like the kisses they’ve shared before. This is the kind of kiss you see in the movies, the heart-stopping and foot-popping kind of kiss. This is the kind of kiss that changes everything and leaves you wondering how you managed to go without it for so long. There’s no going back from this, only forward and Castiel hopes with every fibre of his being that this will lead to something more.   
  
Humming he wraps his arms around Dean’s neck, gives in and brings him closer. He’s so done with pretending. “Missed this,” he whispers, voice vibrating through them both.

 

“Mmm,” Dean murmurs and pulls Castiel tighter against him.

 

They lose themselves like this, lost in the tangle of tongues and longing. They’ve been apart for so long but neither of them are naïve enough not to notice how different this is, how different they are. Eventually Castiel is the first one to pull away, eyes searching Dean’s face and under the moonlit sky drinks in clouded green eyes.

 

“Cas,” Dean mumbles, fingers skimming over Castiel’s cheek.

 

“I know,” he says and reaches down to take Dean’s hand in his own. “Come on.” He leads Dean into the woods, away from the noise and people. It’s just them now and Castiel can’t think of anything better.  It feels right, they feel right and maybe he’s silly for feeling this way but who knows what tomorrow is going to bring?

 

Deciding that they were far enough away from Victor’s house to be seen, Castiel stops and turns to face Dean. He can’t see much but he doesn’t need to. He wraps his fingers through the belt loops of Dean’s jeans and pulls him closer.  “I’ve wanted to do this,” he murmurs, “for so long.”

 

“Cas,” Dean says again, causing Castiel to chuckle.

 

“You’re starting to sound like a broken record Dean.” He sneaks his fingers underneath the hem of Dean’s shirt, lets his fingers trail along the tight expanse of skin.  Underneath his fingers he feels Dean tremble, feels empowered by it.

 

“Want to know what I thought about Dean?” he breathes and feels rather than sees Dean nod his head. “I thought about what it would be like to have you like this, thought about what I would do when I did.” He presses his lips against the side of Dean’s jaw, nips lightly.  “Never thought I would.”

 

“Tell me,” Dean says, voice raw.

 

 

Dean 

 

Dean’s brain is on overdrive as he tries to process everything but he can’t seem to think past the feeling of Castiel pressed against him, or the way his lips are trailing along his jaw. And Castiel’s mouth, God that fucking mouth, telling him all kinds of things he thought he’d never hear.

 

Castiel wanted him and that alone was more than he could think about right now.

 

“Tell me,” he manages weakly, desperately needing to hear more.

 

“What do you want to hear Dean?” Castiel asks quietly.

 

“Everything,” he breathes.

 

He doesn’t need romance or flowers or dinner, he’s not that kind of guy. But right now, hidden amongst the trees and only the moon for guidance, Dean finds himself needing every damn thing that Castiel is willing to give him. He needs the words, the touches, anything to let him know just how badly he’s wanted.

 

How badly he’s _been_ wanted.

 

Castiel tugs on his shirt, slides it up his chest and over his head. Dean shivers against the breeze as fingers begin to roam everywhere, pulling at his nipples and trailing down to play where skin meets jeans.

 

“I’ve always wanted to kiss you here,” Castiel mumbles as he leans down, tongue swirling around one of his nipples before taking it into his mouth. “Here too,” and then he’s taking the other into his mouth, teasing it into a firm peak.

 

All Dean can do is hold on to Castiel’s shoulders as he explores his body, curious fingers pulling and twisting and damn if he doesn’t love it. With a soft moan he tugs Castiel back up, claims his mouth in a hard, desperate kiss. 

 

“Fuck,” he whispers before pulling away and pulling on Castiel’s shirt as he drags it up and over his head. “Tell me more, Cas.”

 

“Sometimes,” Castiel begins wickedly, his words have more of an effect on him then was probably fair, “I used to think about what it would feel like to wrap my lips around your cock.”

 

Dean groans as all the remaining blood in his head rages south. “Shit,” he hisses.

 

“Used to wonder what you’d feel like inside me,” Castiel continues as he slides down to his knees, pulling Dean with him. “Always wanted you to be the first,” he whispers. “Always wanted you to be _my_ first.”

 

Dean’s eyes lock with Castiel’s, green eyes searching blue. He is looking for doubt, uncertainty but what he finds is the exact opposite. He can’t help the lump that raises in his throat. 

 

“You sure Cas?” he asks because as much as he wants this he doesn’t want Castiel rushing into something he’s not ready for. Though he’s had a first, he hasn’t exactly been someone’s _first_ and it’s a little unnerving.

 

Castiel nods his head and it’s all the answer that Dean needs.

 

 

~ ~ ~

 

Castiel 

__

 

It’s everything and so much more than Castiel could have ever imagined. Underneath Dean’s cocky exterior and big mouth is someone who is kind, gentle and extremely giving. Dean takes his time, builds him up slowly but never lets him fall. He’s patient and whenever Castiel beings to feel less than adequate Dean is there to reassure him with kisses that have him soaring.

 

No one had ever told him that it could feel like this, be likes this. No movies, no books could have ever prepared him for the immensity of this moment. He feels like he’s on fire and he couldn’t be happier that the person he chose to experience this with for the first time is Dean, the only boy who’s ever made him want this bad.

 

Moaning softly he glides with Dean’s body, chest to chest, mouth to mouth and he doesn’t let up. He gives as much as he’s taking, chases after Dean when he eases away, slides lower down his body. He feels every inch of Dean against him, the wet press of his lips as he nips and licks, pausing only to lavish attention on his nipples before traveling further south. And then further still, until Dean’s breathe his hot against him.

He whimpers then, hips arching, silently pleading until hands grip his hips and put a stop to his squirming.

“I got you Cas.”

He nods his head, breathing coming fast and shallow as he simply gives himself over to whatever Dean has in mind. He’s not exactly prepared for the feel of Dean’s mouth against him, on him, as he’s being sucked into wet heat. It sends him reeling, hands reaching but only reaching air before he’s struggling up on his elbows to catch the bob of Dean’s head, lips spread obscenely over him. It’s almost too much and his toes curl in response as he groans out loud. 

“Dean,” he pants, supporting himself on one arm so he can cup the back of Dean’s head, his own falling back as his eyes fluttered closed. “God.”

Dean takes his time, the bobs of his head slowing as he teases Castiel, winds him up nice and tight until he’s trembling, babbling incoherently. He watches Castiel, the way he chews on his bottom lip, eyes opening and closing like he has no control over it and it’s basically the hottest thing Dean’s ever seen—right down to the flush that colours his cheeks and chest.

He hums, pulls off Castiel with a pop before sliding up his body and capturing his mouth in a lazy kiss. “Never thought,” he murmurs into the indent of Castiel’s lips. “Cas, I…..”

Castiel shakes his head, and takes the kiss deeper, effectively stopping whatever it was that Dean was about to say. He doesn’t need to hear, doesn’t think he wants to—just in case. After a while, he breaks away, breathing harsher. “Dean… I need you to.”

Dean nods. “Yeah, okay.” His hands are shaking as settles himself between Castiel’s legs, lifts his hips ever so slightly as he balls up his shirt and places it underneath him.  It’s only when he’s spreading Castiel open, tongue lapping at his entrance teasingly that he realizes he didn’t exactly come to Victor’s party prepared. 

He curses.

“What’s wrong?” Castiel asks quietly, eyes guarded.

He shakes his head, chuckles. “Nothing Cas,” he explains. “I uh…. I don’t have anything with me.”

Confused, Castiel stares at him, blushes when it finally sinks in.  “Oh,” he says, ducking his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he repeats.

“Cas…..” But whatever else he was about to say is silenced by Castiel’s finger against his lips.

“Please Dean.”

And how the hell is Dean supposed to say no to that? 

“I’ll be careful,” he mumbles and Castiel gives him a small smile.

“I trust you.”

Not know what else to say, Dean shifts and resettles himself comfortably between Castiel’s legs, ignoring the twigs that dig into is knees.  Forcing himself to be patient, he works Castiel open with a skill that he’s long since perfect. Slow, teasing brushes of his finger, pushing the tip just past the muscle before retreating. He does this, over and over again until Castiel is relaxing against his touch, opening for him.

“C’mon Dean,” Castiel pleads, breathless. 

Dean eases his finger all the way inside, pausing at the first knuckle before sliding the rest of the way in. Castiel’s tight around his finger, hole clenching down around him and he waits it out, lets Castiel grow accustomed to the feeling before he begins to move; finger fucking in and out slowly.  Needs to be wetter, he thinks, groaning as he leans forward so his tongue can join in alongside his finger until Castiel’s spit slick and quaking.

“Another.”

He doesn’t waste any time before adding another finger, moving them in a scissoring motion as he stretches Castiel open and wishes so damn hard there was more than just moonlight shining down on them. He wants to see it, the way Castiel engulfs him, swallows him.  Fuck. With his free head, he wraps it around his cock, grips it hard in an attempt to ease some of the ache.  It’s fruitless though.

The sounds of their breathing bleed together as Dean continues to work Castiel open with patience he wasn’t even aware Dean had, and frankly Dean wasn’t either. Eventually though, it’s not enough and Castiel hips begin to move on their own, seeking something different, _more_.

“Dean….”

“Yeah,” he agrees, pulling his fingers free and makes sure Castiel’s slick enough, adds a little bit more spit just in case. “I got you Cas. Deep breathes.”

Castiel does as Dean says, takes a deep breathe in an effort to calm his nervous and takes another when he feels the head of Dean’s cock push against his entrance. It feels like he’s waited his whole life for this and now that it’s here, he can’t really think straight—at least not past the feeling of Dean slowly pushing himself inside. There are hands on his hips, nails lightly digging in with each of Dean’s thrusts and he can’t focus on much else but that.

Well, that and the feeling of Dean inside of him—big, thick and so utterly perfect. Almost kind of like Dean was made to fit inside of him. He whines, hips canting back against Dean’s, mouth part slightly and chest heaving. 

He’s hot all over, buzzing with electricity and he needs Dean faster, harder. And he must have said it out loud, babbled it more like it, because suddenly Dean’s doing just that.

“God Dean,” he groans, hands coming down to cover the ones on his hips. “C’mon.”

Dean grunts, hands moving away from Castiel’s hips as he leans forward to cradle them around Castiel’s head, brings them face to face. “Cas,” he whispers, lips nibbling on Castiel’s as he swivels his hips, finds the spots that makes Castiel thrash underneath him.

“Do that again.”

And Dean does.

Castiel clings to Dean, legs and arms wrapped around wherever they can find purchase as he moves with Dean.  It doesn’t take long, not with the friction their bodies are creating against his cock. “Dean,” he whimpers, nails digging into Dean’s back, encouraging him to speed up. “So close.”

“Me too Cas,” Dean mumbles, nuzzling at the side of Castiel’s neck as he increases his thrusts, switches up the rotation of his hips. “Fuck. C’mon Cas.” He looks up, meets Castiel’s gaze. “Wanna watch you.”

That’s all it takes and Castiel’s coming between them, hot white ropes that shoot up his stomach and catch on his chin.  And fuck if Dean doesn’t lean forward, lick it off.

“Shit Cas,” he grunts, lips crushing down on Castiel’s as he feels his own body begin to quake.  Its Castiel’s hands on his ass that drives him over the edge, has him coming with a muffled curse into Castiel’s mouth. “Fuck.”

“Dean.”

~ ~ ~

 

 

Counting the stars Castiel tries to ignore the silence that follows and when he loses track and has to start all over again he gives up completely. It shouldn’t be like this right? Awkward and well, just awkward? He really doesn’t know, he hasn’t done this, has no experience. What if Dean didn’t enjoy himself? What if he sucked in general and Dean was regretting it?

 

He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to tell himself not to go down that road. Unfortunately with Dean being so damn quiet beside him it was kind of hard not to.

 

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck_.

 

“Dean?” he asks eventually unable to deal with the tension that only seemed to grow thicker.

 

Dean grunts in response.

 

“Are we okay?” He needs to know if they are because the dread that settled in his stomach is doing little to reassure him.

 

Dean’s quiet for so long that Castiel jumps when he does finally answer, “Yeah Cas, we’re okay.”

 

Dean’s words do very little to reassure him.

 

 

~ ~ ~

Dean 

 

 

He’s floating on cloud nine, or at least he was until the high wore off and reality slapped in him the face. No amount of reasoning can condone what he had just done, what he _has_ done over and over again. Pretending with Michael, leading him on was one thing but this, this was downright cruel. He had never been the cheating type. Sure he has a big mouth and cocky attitude but most of that was a front.

 

He wasn’t this person and yet tonight he was.  Being so madly in love with Castiel didn’t make this okay, not really. He needs to talk to Michael, like yesterday.

 

Huffing he straightens and begins to hunt for his clothes. Unfortunately for him the moon chooses that moment to slip behind the trees, leaving them blanketed in darkness. Karma, he muses bitterly.

 

“I should get back,” he says mostly to himself as he locates his jeans, pulls them on. 

“Okay,” Castiel mumbles and Dean knows instantly that he’s hurt. He fucking hates himself for it, but just adds it on top of everything else. He glances around for his shirt, nearly curses when he can’t find it.  He’s not this guy, he’s not this guy. He runs a hand through his hair, pulling at it as he does. He just cheated on Michael, at a party they came to together and he can’t really bring himself to feel as guilty about that as he should. But still, this shouldn’t have happened, not like this. This… “this was a mistake,” and it’s out of his mouth before he’s even aware he’s said it out loud, feels his chest tighten when Castiel looks at him, eyes wide, face pale.

“Don’t say that.”

He’s panicking now, and fuck he should just shut up, no really don’t say anything more. “Well it was.” God why can’t he stop? He tugs on his shirt and kneels down in front of Castiel, fingers playing over his cheek. “Cas…”

But Castiel’s shaking his head and pulling away. “You should get back,” and he says it so stiffly that Dean feels like the biggest asshole of all time.

“I guess I should.” He takes on last look at Castiel before pushing to his feet and shoving his hands awkwardly into his pockets. “I’ll… see you later Cas.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

 

Finding Michael is easy, he’s leaning against the kitchen island lazily with an empty cup hanging loosely from his fingers. He sighs and wonders how much Michael had to drink tonight and how much of it was because of him.  Shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans he pushes his way through groups of people and comes to stand beside his boyfriend.

 

“Hey,” he says and watches as the cup in Michael’s hand clatters to the floor.

 

“Wheerrre haaave you been?” Michael asks, turning to poke a finger in his chest. Dean takes his slightly coherent speech as a good thing and decides to ignore the way his finger is digging into his chest.

 

“Mingling,” he replies before wrapping an arm around Michael’s waist. “What do you say we get you home?” He’s not in any mood to stick around and judging by Michael’s current condition, Dean should probably get him home.

 

“S’pposed to be gettin’ us drinks,” Michael tells him matter-of-factly, nearly tripping on his own feet. Apparently he’s a lot drunker than Dean had anticipated. He’s not sure why he’s surprised.

 

Steering Michael towards the door, Dean says, “I know and I’m sorry. Something came up.”

 

Michael nods his head. “Yeah _Castiel_.”

 

The way he says his name makes Dean’s stomach tighten. There’s not only jealousy behind those words but something close to disgust. He tells himself that Michael has every right to feel this way, all things considered but just because he does doesn’t make it sit any better. 

 

“He’s my best friend,” he mumbles in response and pulls open the front door.  “C’mon my car is just a few more steps away.”

 

“He’s more than your friend,” Michael mutters.

 

Dean doesn’t have it in him to lie anymore, so for he says nothing and opts for helping Michael get inside the car. It’s an interesting process. Michael’s all dead weight and loose limbs and maybe he’s protesting slightly about going home with him but eventually he gets him situated. What other choice does he have? He can’t just leave Michael here.

 

Michael’s quiet at first, saying nothing when Dean turns on a classic rock station and points the car in the direction of his house. Dean’s kind of thankful for it, gives him time to mull over what exactly he’s going to say and figure out when he should say it because clearly now is not the right time. Not with the passenger seat reeking of alcohol and distrust.

 

He should have known Michael would sober up quickly, or least enough to have a conversation he wasn’t quite ready to have.

 

“You slept with him,” and it’s stated so plainly that Dean can’t help but flinch.

 

He opens his mouth, anything other than the truth ready to fall from his lips only to close his mouth and tighten his grip on the steering wheel. Eventually he nods his head because it’s either that or lie and he’s so done with lying.

 

“Say it,” Michael demands, the strength in his voice only adding to the guilt Dean feels in his stomach.

 

He signals onto Michael’s street. “I slept with him.” And there it is, the truth for the first time in three years.

Michael nods his head, arms crossing over his chest like he’s about to give himself a hug.

 

“Tell me why,” Michael whispers as Dean pulls to the curb in front of his house. “Just give me that.”

 

Dean sighs as he shifts the car into park. How can he explain this other than, “We have history.”

 

“Not good enough.”

 

“I know,” Dean murmurs, eyes cast forward. “But it’s really all I can give you.”

 

Everything else is personal, held too close to his heart to share with someone he would probably never understand. They weren’t in love and they never had been and that realization for them both is reason enough to leave everything else alone.

 

Plus he screwed up tonight, to epic proportions and he’s not really sure if he’ll get the chance to fix his mistakes. Not this time.

 

“I hate you,” Michael tells him as he pushes open the car door and climbs out, slamming the door behind him.

 

“I know,” he says, watching as Michael makes his way inside before pulling away and heading home.

 

 

~ ~ ~

 

Castiel 

 

 

Of all the things that he imagined could happen, this is definitely not one of them. Not in his worst nightmares would he have thought that Dean would use him like this and then leave him, alone in the woods, heartbroken and devastated beyond words. He had trusted Dean with a part of himself, against his better judgement, against his heart and what did he have to show for it? Nothing but emptiness.

 

 

He tugs on his jeans, feels the weight of everything come crashing down around him and the only indication as to how long he’s been laying there is the dark fading away into light. He shakes his head sadly as he hand comes up to wipe away the tears that threatened to fall. Dean had said this had been a mistake and he’s having trouble seeing it as anything but. He’s wanted this for so long, to give himself over to Dean so completely that he just can’t think of it that way. Yet…he’s just so damn hurt that none of it appeared to mean the same to Dean. 

 

Grabbing his shirt he pulls it on and heads in the direction of Victor’s house.

 

Everything is silent and it should be uncomfortable but right now it’s calming. He slips his hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone, surprised to find that the clock reads a little after 5 a.m.

_Crap_.

 

He opens his text messages, not surprised to find at least a dozen from Charlie and equally as many from Pam. He considers replying to them, letting them know he’s okay until his phone lights up at an incoming call from Charlie no less. He debates on ignoring it until he’s straddling the property line of Victor’s house and the woods and realizes he’s in the middle of damn nowhere.

 

He hits answer.

 

“Hello Charlie,” he murmurs and dammit he didn’t mean to sound so pathetic.

 

“CAS!” Charlie exclaims, the worry in her voice evident even through the phone. “Where the hell have you been? I have been trying to get a hold of you all night!”

 

“Just getting my heart broken,” he admits before letting himself back down to the mildew coated grass. “Can you come get me?”

 

He hears the rattle of keys before Charlie asks, “Where are you?”

 

“Still at Victor’s.”

 

“I’m on my way.”

 

Castiel nods his head as he hits end and lets himself curl in on himself. He doesn’t care what he looks like and it’s not like there’s anyone around to see him anyways.

 

Turns out letting Dean back into his life was definitely a mistake and now the joke is on him. He could almost laugh at the stupidity of it all if his heart wasn’t too busy breaking.

 

God he wants to hate Dean Winchester.

 

 

~ ~ ~

 

 

 

 

Charlie doesn’t push for an explanation and Castiel is thankful for that, but she doesn’t leave his side either and he’s thankful for that too. He doesn’t want to be alone right now, would rather suffer in silence with his best friend than be left alone with his thoughts. Truth be told, he’d rather not be thinking at all but it’s not like he really has a choice in the matter.

 

Dean’s always lurking, always a blink away and he hates it. Or at least he wants to.

 

Charlie wraps an arm around him, pulls him closer and for a weak minute he takes comfort in her warmth.  Burying his head in his pillow he breathes in deeply, tells himself that he _will not_ cry.

 

“You’re going to be okay,” Charlie murmurs.

 

As much as Castiel wants to believe it’s true, he knows it’s not. “How was your night?” he asks. He doesn’t want to be that friend that’s too wrapped up in their own problems that he forgets about other things. He knows that Charlie had her own set of issues to deal with last night and he wonders if she did.

 

“We don’t have to talk about it right now,” Charlie tells him.

 

“No,” Castiel shakes his head and gives her a shaky smile. “I want to hear about it. Maybe it will distract me.” 

Charlie studies him for a full minute before nodding. “Okay,” she says, voice quiet and so unlike the Charlie he’s used to. “I told her how I felt and well, she doesn’t feel the same. Long story short, she says she doesn’t want to lose me.”

Not knowing what to say, Castiel pulls Charlie closer against him. 

“I’ll be okay though,” she murmurs after a while. “I just need some time.”

Castiel nods his hand. He gets it.

“Yeah, I understand that.”

Burrowing her head in the crook of Castiel’s arm, she sniffles. “It wasn’t a mistake. Telling her.”

Castiel glances down at her, takes in the sad eyes and pale complexion and finds himself wishing he could feel the same. He had known letting Dean back into his life was going to be a mistake but as those fences slowly began to mend, he found it was a mistake he couldn’t regret making. Not even now, after he’s given all he had to give and in return all he got was the silhouette of Dean’s retreating form. He should be relieved, right, that it’s finally over?

And maybe he is, relieved, just a little–even if it still hurts.

Maybe it always will.

 

 

 

~ ~ ~

 

Dean

__

 

He could blame the lack of sleep on his sour mood but he knows that would be a lie. Breaking two hearts in one night is bound to make a guy a little grumpy, or in his case a whole lot. He’s an idiot; it’s the only accurate word that he can come up to with describe himself. Well there’s asshole, jerk, cheater, the list is endless and they’re all true. If Michael and Castiel chose to never talk to him again he has no one to blame but himself.

 

He hadn’t set out to intentionally hurt either of them and yet that is exactly what he had done. He had hurt Michael in more ways than he cares to think about. The pretending, leading him on, the cheating. He’s proud of none of it and if given the chance he would go back and change everything. He’d never date Michael and he would never have let Castiel walk out of his life.

But he can’t go back and he can’t erase the way Michael had looked at him last night; just as he sure as hell can’t erase the part where he walked away from Castiel, scared and unable to correct the stupid slip he’d made. And he should have, he should have made Castiel understand that he wasn’t the mistake. But he hadn’t, instead he high tailed it out of there for no other reason than he couldn’t deal with his mistakes and thus, leading Castiel to believe that _he_ had been the mistake Dean had made. There was no excuse for that, because really, what the fuck had he been thinking? What the fuck? 

His being with Castiel like that, while still with Michael, that had been a mistake because now that will always taint that moment. A moment that should have been about nothing more than he and Castiel. Michael should never have been in the picture.

Running a towel over his damp hair he tosses it in the corner of his room before pulling on a pair of well-worn sweatpants and white tank.  He doesn’t exactly have plans today that require him to be dressed. Nope, it’s just going to be him, reruns of Criminal Minds and his own misery for company.  With that he switches his phone to silent and places it on the nightstand beside his bed.

 

He fully intends to wallow in peace, which means dodging Jo’s calls. His phone may not be lighting up with missed calls but he knows, give or take a couple hours that it will be. And as much as he loves Jo, he really can’t deal with her right now.

 

He feels guilty just thinking about it but figures he might as well pile that on top of the rest of it. He’s a crap person after all.

 

But apparently karma isn’t done dicking him around. Or at least that’s what he’s thinking when his bedroom opens and Jo barges in.

 

“You Dean Winchester,” she says, pointing an angry finger in his direction, “are an asshole of epic proportions.”

 

Dean nods his head because there is no point in denying it. “Want to tell me something I don’t already know Joanna?”

 

“Don’t you even start with that,” she mutters before flopping down on his bed. He watches as her mouth opens and closes, clearly struggling for the right words, or the meanest. He figures it’s probably the latter.

 

“Say what you came to say,” he tells her. There’s no reason to beat around the bush about it.

 

“How could you do that?” she demands. 

 

“Gotta be a little more specific,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows slightly. It’s a cocky gesture, one that he usually reserves for when he’s in trouble. Right now is probably not the best time to be doing that, if the hand connecting with his cheek is any indication. “Okay I deserved that.”

 

“I’m talking about Cas,” Jo seethes. “I already know that you have been dicking Michael around and though I don’t agree with that either, I understood in a way. But what you did to Cas, Dean? I can’t even begin to understand why.”

 

Dean drops his head as he runs a hand over it. “I freaked out Jo,” he admits quietly. “It was intense you know? And I freaked.”

 

Jo sighs before pulling Dean against her. “You’re an idiot,” she says softly, her anger quickly fading. “There’s more than that though, isn’t there?”

 

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, plucking at the fraying hem of his pants. “I guess I’ve known for a long time that what I was doing with Michael was wrong but it didn’t really hit me until last night. I date, a lot Jo, but I’ve never been a cheater. And that’s exactly what I was last night and I didn’t like it. Didn’t like being that person.”

 

“I’d be disappointed if you did,” Jo replies. “But you’re not a cheater, Dean. You were just lost and then you weren’t.”

 

Frowning Dean pulls away slightly to look at his best friend, the confusion evident in his voice when he says, “You are going to have to explain that to me.”

 

“It’s always been Cas,” Jo says, “and last night I think you both realized that.” 

 

“I think he loves me back,” Dean whispers. It’s the first time he’s admitted it out loud after what happened last night, scared that he if voiced it he would somehow jinx it.  Saying it now though, helps put some of the pieces of his broken heart back together.

 

Jo nods her head as she gives him an encouraging smile. “I think he does too. So what are you going to do about it?”

 

“I don’t know,” and really he doesn’t. How does he admit he’s been an idiot? He’s never been exactly good at it.

 

“Don’t be an idiot Dean,” Jo warns before unfolding herself from the bed. “I have to go. Mom’s got me on chore duty. Will you be okay?” 

 

“Yeah,” Dean murmurs, leaning into Jo as she presses a kiss to his forehead. “Bye.”

 

When the door closes behind her, Dean reaches for his phone and pulls up Castiel’s number. His finger hovers over the call button before he gives up and tosses it down. What the hell is he going to say anyways? And even if he did call, would Castiel even answer? 


	9. Chapter 9

Dean 

__

Skipping school had seemed like a good idea at the time, figured he could use the day off to clear his head and attempt to figure out what he wanted. But all he ended up doing was sulking and delaying the inevitable. It didn’t matter how long he hid out, buried himself underneath his comforter because Castiel would still be waiting for him when he decided to rejoin the real world.

 

And he really, really wasn’t ready to deal with that just yet.

 

How was he supposed to own up to his mountain load of fuck ups when he couldn’t even be bothered to answer the damn phone when Jo called, or when Michael called? What the hell would he do if Castiel called, ignore him too? Like Dean hadn’t hurt him enough already.

 

Kicking the blanket off of him, Dean climbed out of bed and wandered over to his dresser, eyeing the pictures plastered alongside the edges of his mirror. Dozens of them are of him and Castiel, pictures from lazy summers spent on the beach, pictures of them in the background and on their grade eight graduation. They look happy, elated even and Dean honestly can’t remember feeling anything remotely close to that as the boy grinning back to him had. Reaching up he ran his finger over the picture, chasing the feeling that’s no longer there.

 

He sighs, knowing he really has no one else to blame but himself. If he had just opened his eyes a little wider, he could have prevented all of this from happening. He and Castiel could be happy right now. Or at least he thinks so.

He thinks of Michael then, his serious exterior and arrogant grin. They had nothing in common, their conversations had never been meaningful and lacked everything just lacked everything he had had with Castiel. But surely something other than his only personal preservation had kept them together? Something more than sex right? Because even though that had been amazing, that couldn’t have been it? 

 

He runs a frustrated hand through his tousled hair before opening one of the drawers, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he finds the shoebox he keeps there. He fingers the lid before taking it out, knows exactly what he’ll find inside and makes his way to his bed.

 

Folding his legs underneath him, Dean removes the lid and sets it down beside him.

 

There are at least two dozen notes, maybe more, ranging from grade one until grade eight.  He’d kept the ones he figured had been important, knowing that if he had kept them all he’d have at least eight more shoeboxes just like this. Pulling out note at random, he begins to read and before he knows it he’s half way through the box and falling in love with the people they had once been all over again.

 

He pulls out another note, unfolds it carefully before letting his eyes skim over the paper. And then he rereads it, heart skidding to a halt before kicking in again.

 

He feels his world vibrate around him before everything seems to stand perfectly still. If he had thought he had been an idiot before, he was an even bigger idiot now. 

 

He drops the paper before jumping off his bed and racing down the stairs. There really was somewhere else he had to be. 

 

He ignores Bobby’s hollering about getting his faking ass back to bed, of course he doesn’t listen to him.

 

 

 

~ ~ ~

 

Castiel 

__

 

Castiel doesn’t know what’s worse, the fact that his mother all but pushed him out the door this morning or Charlie and Pam’s overly affectionate touches. Either way, his friends can knock it off a little bit. He’s not going to break.

 

Pouting he kicks his friend from underneath the table, watches as Charlie’s eyes widen in shock before she turns to glare at him. Her eyes immediately soften though once she gets a good look at him. He shrugs his shoulders as if in apology, but he’s kinda not sorry. He’s too busy being heartbroken and grumpy. And dammit, he’s entitled, isn’t he?

 

Grabbing the banana off his tray, Castiel starts to tear the peel off even though he has no intention of eating it. It’s nothing more than a distraction, however brief. He drops the peel before doing the same with the now exposed fruit. 

 

Well that was fun.

 

“Cas?” Charlie asks softly, hand reaching out to cover his and gives it a little squeeze. “You hanging in there?”

 

He considers telling her that he’s fine, just peachy but decides against it. Just because he’s in a sour mood doesn’t exactly give him the right to take it out on his best friend. “No,” he answers, “I’m not.”

 

“Wanna talk about it?”

 

“Nah,” he shakes his head before grabbing his bag and sliding from his seat. “I think I’m just gonna head on home.” He’ll come up with some kind of excuse as to why he came home early and just deal with whatever punishment his mom decides to dish out. 

 

Charlie looks him over for a second before nodding and rising to give him a quick hug. “I’ll call you later,” she tells him.

 

“Yeah okay,” he murmurs.

 

He leaves the cafeteria without looking back.

 

 

~ ~ ~

 

Dean

__

 

This really hadn’t been part of the plan, at least not when he had left his house and gotten into his car. Hell, he hadn’t even realized where the hell he was going until he found himself parked in Michael’s driveway, hands grasping the steering wheel a little too tightly. Seriously, he could feel his hands begin to tingle with the effort. He takes a shaky breath, releases it in time with the steering wheel and pushes open the door to his car.

 

He doesn’t make it a step before the front door is opening and Michael steps on to the porch. Needless to say Dean stops in his track because whatever had went through his mind on the drive over, it hadn’t been this. He hadn’t expected Michael to look…okay. 

 

Maybe he should have.

 

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, he make his way up the porch steps and only stops once he’s face to face with the boy he used to call his boyfriend. Standing here, the breeze playing around them both, it’s easy to remember just why Dean could have loved him. 

 

“Hey,” he murmurs, eyes roaming Michael’s face, looking for any signs of…well anything but finding nothing. 

 

“Hey,” Michael says, lowering himself onto a wicker chair.  He gestures for Dean to join him. 

 

They sit in silence for a while, both of them content to just look out at the falling leaves and it’s not long before Dean shifts, deciding that he’s put this off long enough. Longer than what’s fair. But who is he to talk about fair? Fair would have been not leading Michael on at all, fair would have been not leaving Castiel alone in the woods after sharing something so fucking extraordinary. 

 

Life is never fucking fair and apparently neither is Dean.

 

“Look,” he begins, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his thigh, “I’m really fucking sorry.”

 

Michael tilts his head to the side, as if he’s considering Dean’s words before giving him a small smile. “It’s okay,” he replies, a slight chuckle to his voice. “Really.”

 

Confused, Dean scowls. Surely he didn’t hear Michael right. “No,” he shakes his head, “it’s not okay. What I did wasn’t cool, Michael. There’s no excuse for it.”

 

“Do you love him?” Michael asks quietly, eyes searching Dean’s face with nothing more than curiosity. It throws Dean for a loop because this conversation is not going how he expected it. 

Regardless he finds himself answering, “Yes I do.”

Michael’s quiet for a bit, staring at his folded hands as though there’s something suddenly so interesting there he hasn’t seen before. Eventually he looks up, meets Dean’s gaze. “You should have told me sooner,” he mutters, hand racking through his hair in frustration. “Could have saved me a lot of time and a lot of heartbreak if you would have just had the balls to admit that I wasn’t what you wanted.” 

Dean doesn’t say anything, doesn’t think there is anything he can say.  But apparently Michael isn’t finished. 

“I wish I could say I was surprised you know?” He shrugs his shoulders at Dean’s confused stare. “Always knew I wasn’t enough for you, but I hoped that maybe eventually I could be.” He sighs, rubs his hands against the thighs of his pants. “Do what you’re gonna do Dean, but do it off my porch.”

 

Dumbfounded, all Dean can do is watch as Michael heads back inside and continues to sit there long after the door closes behind his ex-boyfriend.

 

What the hell?

~ ~ ~

 

Castiel 

__

 

Castiel’s mom isn’t home and he’s never been more grateful for that. Of course she’ll find out he ditched the remainder of his day come tomorrow, or later tonight depending, but at least he’ll be able to deal with her disapproving look later because right now all he wants to do is curl into a ball. He doesn’t care if it’s childish, hiding out and wallowing in self-pity. As far as he’s concerned, given everything that’s happened in the last couple days, he is fully entitled.

 

Dropping his bag by the door, he half crawls, half walks up the stairs. He’s perfectly capable of walking up the stairs, but he just doesn’t have the energy for it. He used it all to drag his moping ass through classes and then through a painful lunch before skipping out.

 

After that night he had expected to hear from Dean, expected some kind of lame ass apology or something. He hadn’t anticipated the silence and really, he should have. When has Dean done anything that Castiel expected, well, aside from breaking his heart?

 

He wasn’t at school today and though he tried not to notice, neither was Michael. And what’s to stop him from thinking the worst? Maybe after their so called _mistake_ Dean went crawling back to Michael. Maybe Michael doesn’t even know what happened between him and Dean.

 

He sighs, knows he probably doesn’t.

 

Pushing himself to his feet, he stumbles into his bedroom and onto his bed with a huff. Yesterday sucked, today sucks and tomorrow is going to suck even more. They can’t avoid each other forever, not with their project due and the inevitable likelihood of them having to present it together. He toys with the idea of dropping out of school and finishing the rest of the semester from home. It’s not like people don’t do it.  Unfortunately his mother, bless her soul, would never go for it.

 

He groans.

 

When his phone begins to ring from somewhere in his pocket, Castiel fishes it out and glares at the screen. “Speak of the devil,” he mumble before hitting the ignore button.  Just because Dean has finally decided to call, maybe make his lame ass apology, doesn’t mean that he wants to hear it. When his phone starts to ring again, he powers his phone off. “Get a hint,” he tells his now silent phone.

 

 

He really should have known he wasn’t going to get off so easily. 

 

He hears the sound of his door opening and closing, tries to ignore the approaching footsteps but when they stop just inside his bedroom he knows he can’t ignore it forever. Pulling himself into a sitting position, he crosses his legs underneath him, all the while avoiding looking at Dean fucking Winchester.

 

The asshole who managed to break his heart not once, but twice. Go him.

 

“What do you want?” he asks eventually when Dean just continues to stand there.

 

“You,” Dean answers, the word leaving his mouth before he has time to even think about it. “But first I want to say I’m sorry for being an epic asshole. Seriously, I think I blew up the scales on that one.” He steps further into the room, hesitates a beat before lowering himself down beside Castiel.

 

Neither of them can ignore the way the air seems to crack and pop around them.

 

“If that’s all you came to say you can go now,” Castiel whispers, shifting his body away from Dean. He can’t do this, knows that if Dean gets any closer he’s just going to cave. It’s not like he wants to be angry with Dean because he really doesn’t and if given the opportunity, he’d forget about everything and dive back in.

 

Dean sighs. “Look,” he says, “I’m an idiot. What happened in the woods, I never meant to hurt you Cas.”

 

Castiel chuckles, can’t help how bitter it sounds. “A little late for that,” he tells Dean.

 

“I know Cas,” Dean mumbles. “You weren’t the mistake I was referring too,” he trails off, huffing in frustration as he struggles to find the right words. “But you gotta let me know how you feel Cas,” and then adds, “about me.”

 

 _You should you big idiot,_ Castiel’s head screams. Dean’s been his first everything, how can his feelings not be obvious? “You really don’t know?” he asks, voice so low that Dean has to lean forward just to hear him. “You’re telling me after all these years you really don’t know?”

 

Dean shakes his head. “You’re killing me here Cas.”

 

“I love you,” Castiel mumbles, his gaze lifting to look at Dean, really look at him, for the first time since he’s stepped into his room. And even though his hair his messy and there’s dark circles under his eyes he still takes Castiel’s breath away. “I’ve always loved you.”

 

“Where the hell did we go wrong?” Dean mutters, asking the question more to himself than Castiel.  He reaches out, tangles his fingers between Castiel’s and holds on tightly. “Apparently we both got lost, really fucking lost somewhere along the way and I can promise you right now it’ll never happen again.” 

 

“You gotta let me know,” Castiel murmurs, holding Dean’s hand just as tight. He’s waited so long for this, had almost given up on it and yet it seems like everything was falling into place, finally. Or at least he really hopes it is.

 

“I love you Cas,” Dean says in a rush, almost as though he’s afraid if he doesn’t get them out fast enough they’ll get stuck. “I love you so fucking much.”

 

“It’s about damn time,” he whispers before closing the distance and kissing Dean Winchester stupid.

 


	10. Chapter 10

  
**Epilogue**

Dean

 

 

He and Castiel fell back into their old groove, spend endless amounts of time together and hate being apart for more than is necessary. It’s like they’re trying to make up for lost time and it’s incredible, it really is. Looking at Castiel now, seeing how unconditionally happy he is, Dean wonders how he could have been so clueless before. He hasn’t told Castiel about that day at the beach, hasn’t told him how those fickle words had stuck with him and though he knows he probably should, he can’t bring himself to burst the blissful bubble that’s formed around him.

 

He will, in time but for right now, he’s too content to simply just _be_.

 

And what he is right now is nervous. 

 

He tugs at the collar of his dress shirt, straightens it out and asks himself for what feels like the thousandth time why he thought this was a good idea. It’s not like they haven’t been on a date before, okay maybe not a real one but still? He rolls his eyes and turns away from the mirror. He looks okay, handsome Jo had said when he sent her a picture against his better judgement. He knows she’ll hold it against him one day in the near future. Probably his wedding day or something.

 

Woah, wedding day? Slow down Dean Winchester.  Yet despite the clenching of his stomach and jittering nerves, the thought seems right and as it plays in his head over and over again the more the idea sits well with him. 

 

Huh, he thinks, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

 

It wouldn’t be completely out of the blue, would it? They’ve been together practically since forever and sure there’s that chunk of time where they weren’t but that’s a moot point right now because he knows, deep down, that this is everything he never knew he wanted. Marriage, a house, kids and Jesus Christ it’s like his whole life is flashing right before his eyes.  He can’t make it stop. He’s insane, he’s gotta be because this their first _real date_ and he can’t just be dropping the whole _marry me Cas_ card right now. Can he?

 

Oh God, now he’ sweating.

 

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he dials a number he knows by heart.

 

“Jo,” he groans when she picks up on the second ring, “tell me I’m out of my fucking mind.” Not giving her a chance to even say hi, he rambles on, says it all in rush because Jesus Christ, he’s insane. And gathering by the silence at the other end, it’s just been confirmed.

 

“You fucking with me Winchester?” she asks.

 

“I wish I was,” he mutters.

 

“You know you’re still in high school right?”

 

“Yeah, your point?”

 

“My point being, you two are still working your shit out. Hell, you guys just started dating. You’re out of your fucking mind. Tell me you’re high. Did Pam get you high?”

 

Dean chuckles. “No Pam did not get me high.”

 

Jo sighs. “Doesn’t matter what I say, does it? You’re gonna do it anyways?”

 

“Yeah, I really am…”

 

~ ~ ~

 

To say that the conversation with Jo hadn’t gone the way he had expected it to would be an understatement. But why he was even entertaining the idea at all was bat shit crazy. Yet despite the craziness of it all, it felt right and that’s exactly why he’s standing in the doorway of Bobby’s study, hands shoved deep into the pocket of his slacks. Part of him can’t wait to see the look on his uncle’s face when he tells Bobby what he’s up to, the other part is quietly freaking the fuck out.

 

When Bobby doesn’t look up from the book he’s currently buried in, Dean coughs and draws his uncle’s attention immediately. He watches the slow grin that breaks on Bobby’s face, almost hidden by the overgrown beard. “You clean up nice, boy,” Bobby tells him earnestly. “Special occasion?”

 

Dean shrugs in an attempt to play it off. “You can say that,” he mumbles as he steps into the room and takes the vacant chair opposite his uncle’s desk.

 

“So,” he began, rubbing his hands together nervously, “this is going to sound crazy but I just need you to hear me out.” He waits for Bobby’s nod before continuing, “Do you by any chance still have my Dad’s wedding ring?”

 

Bobby raises a questioning brow at him, “Depends. Why’re you askin’?” 

“Well,” he fumbles, wishing he could look anywhere but at Bobby right now but knows if he can’t even look the old man in the eye there’s no way in hell he’ll be okay with that he’s about to ask. “Do you think I’d be able to have it?” 

Bobby studies Dean, hand rubbing over his beard. He doesn’t need to know to ask what the boy’s planning. “You gonna do something damn stupid, aren’t you?”

“Yes sir,” he admits.

“Just so long as I know.” But, Bobby was already rummaging around in the front hall drawer. Finding the ring box, he handed it off with a raised eyebrow. “An’ Dean?”

“Yeah, Bobby? Dean braced himself for the lecture.

“Good luck.”

 

Dean slides the box from the desk, feels the weight in his hand and feels himself begin to calm. He’s never been so sure of anything in his entire life. He slips the box into his pocket as he stands up. “Thanks Bobby,” he says. “It means a lot.”

 

He’s going to ask Castiel to marry him.

 

 

~ ~ ~

 

Castiel 

__

 

“You could go naked and Dean wouldn’t even notice what you’re wearing,” Charlie snorts as she flips over onto her stomach, watches as Castiel continues to inspect himself in the floor length mirror. “Seriously Cas, you look fine.”

 

“It’s not too much?” Castiel asks as he skims over his reflection with a critical eye. He’s having a hard time believing that he looks _fine_ and to be honest he doesn’t just want to look _fine_ he wants to look _amazing_. But apparently his best friend is of no use at all. He turns to Jo.

 

“What do you think Jo?”

 

Jo lets her eyes roam over his outfit, the baby blue dress shirt and fitted slacks before giving him two thumbs up. “You look amazing Cas,” she tells him in earnest. “Dean isn’t going to know what hit him.”

 

“Thanks,” he says feeling much better about his selection. “And you,” he mutters pointing at Charlie, “have been no help tonight.”

 

Charlie shrugs her shoulders, unoffended by his words. “Told you I wouldn’t be so that’s why I brought Jo.”

 

“I appreciate that,” he chuckles, moving to sit between the pair. “I’m nervous,” he admits.

 

Charlie looks up from picking at the nail polish on her fingers, frowns at her best friend. “Why are you nervous? You two have been together for practically forever.”

 

Castiel shrugs. “I don’t know,” he mutters, “feels different somehow.”  He glances between Jo and Charlie, drags his bottom lip through his teeth as he struggles not to feel too guilty- going on about Dean when they’ve only just started hanging out again. Really hopes he isn’t rubbing salt into a still open wound. But, watching them together, they look okay or at least on their way to being okay.

 

Jo snorts causing Castiel to poke her, “What?” he asks. “You know something.”

 

“Do not,” Jo replies easily but the way her body tenses doesn’t escape Castiel. 

 

“Tell me,” he pushes but Jo only shakes her head, tells him he’s crazy and that she knows nothing. Eventually he lets it go and glances impatiently at his watch. “Shit,” he jumps up and rushes to the mirror. “Dean’s going to be here soon.”

 

“Cas calm down,” Charlie says, coming to stand behind her friend. “You’re going to be fine.” She presses a quick kiss to his temple before pulling Castiel from the bedroom and down the stairs. “Gotta show your mom how hot her son looks.”

 

Castiel rolls his eyes but let’s himself be pulled down the stairs and into the kitchen.

 

She looks up when she hears them come in, grins when her eyes find Castiel. 

 

“You look handsome Castiel,” she tells him as she rounds the counter. She places her hands on his shoulders, smoothes out the wrinkles.

 

“So I’ve been told,” he laughs. 

 

She pulls Castiel into a tight hug but doesn’t say anything else. She was happy that Castiel was happy, but she was still worried.  But kids grow up and sometimes, well sometimes it better to sit back and let them. “So,” she asked, “When is Dean coming?”

 

 “Now I guess,” he chuckles before giving his mom another quick hug and bee lines it for the door.

 

He runs his hands over his pants before opening the door and nearly loses the ability to breathe. Dean looks incredible and damn if Castiel can figure out how to use his tongue. What are words? He opens his mouth, closes it again and it’s apparent that they’re both struggling if Dean’s widening eyes are any indication.

 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean finally manages, tongue darting out to wet his lip. “You look amazing.” 

 

Castiel nods, voice sounding wrecked when he says, “You too.”

 

“I wanna kiss you,” Dean murmurs as he pulls Castiel out onto the porch, arms snaking around his waist.

 

Castiel shakes his head, stepping back a little as he casts a glance of his shoulder where his mom, Jo and Charlie are standing. “Not right now,” he mumbles. “Later.”

 

Dean nods and lets go of Castiel, just a little and gives them a little wave before returning his attention back to Castiel. “We should probably go,” he says. “Don’t want to miss our reservations.”

  
“No,” Castiel agrees, “wouldn’t that.”

 

Dean takes Castiel’s hand as he leads him towards the car, heart knocking against his chest. It doesn’t matter how hard he tries to shake it, Castiel still feels nervous about tonight. Realistically he knows that his relationship with Dean is solid, permanent, or at least is on his part, but the way the air around them hums with _something_ Castiel finds he can’t settle down. Whatever it is, whatever this feeling is, he just hopes there’s a reason for it because by the way Dean’s hand slightly trembles in his own is doing little to make him feel better.

 

Castiel takes a deep breath and remembers that Dean promised he wouldn’t hurt again, and he trusts that promise more than anything.

 

He takes that as a good sign.

 

 

 

~ ~ ~

 

 

Dinner was perfect, the food impeccable and the company; well it was simply the best.  But what had surprised him, truly, was the thought that Dean had put into it all. The perfect, simple, yet classy restaurant, the secluded booth in the corner that glowed with candlelight and the one rose in the center that as it turns out, was not part of the restaurant décor. It was all Dean, down to the last detail and Castiel would be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised. Who knew his Dean could be so romantic?

 

He twirls the rose between his fingers as he laces his hand with Dean’s, leaning in to him as they walk down the boardwalk. Their steps are slow, both of them just content to be here together and if Castiel had thought he had been in love before, well now nothing could top the way he feels right now.  And right now he feels like he’s walking on cloud nine. He can’t help but wonder how he got so lucky.

 

“Thanks for tonight,” he murmurs, glancing at Dean, taking in everything about him. The windblown hair, the moss green eyes and even though he can’t see them right now, the freckles. He looks incredible; always does, but tonight, all dressed up Castiel thinks he’s never looked better. 

 

Underneath the stars, bathed in moonlight, he looks like a man who is irrevocably in love.  He supposes they both do.

 

“You’re welcome,” Dean smiles, arm draping around Castiel’s shoulders and pulling him closer. “I hope you had a good time tonight.”

 

Castiel pokes him playfully before saying, “The best.”

 

“Good,” Dean tells him before dragging him over to the edge of the boardwalk and pulling him down. He kicks at the sand absently, before running a hand over the box in his pocket, feels his heart pick up speed.  “You know I love you right Cas? More than anything?”

 

Castiel nods his head, tries to pull off a sure smile but the dread pooling in his stomach causes it to waver some. “Yeah,” he answers, confused, scared. “I love you too. More than anything.”

 

Dean nods his head, rubs a hand over his jaw. He feels out of his element, wonders why he figured this was a good fucking idea and then he looks at Castiel, takes in his inquisitive blue eyes and slightly chapped lips and everything just clicks in to place. “I want to be your everything Cas,” he says, voice confident, “I want to be everything you need and hell I know this isn’t always going to be easy because when has it ever for us right?” he chuckles, perfectly aware that he’s rambling. “And I know that we’re young still, that we haven’t even graduated high school yet but trust me when I say I haven’t been surer of anything in my entire life. Short life, but you know what I mean.”

 

“Dean,” Castiel laughs and places a hand over Dean’s, “spit it out already.”

 

“Yeah,” Dean mutters, “yeah,” and then he’s reaching into his pocket. “Bobby held onto to this for me. I want you to have it.” He reaches for Castiel’s hand, opens it before placing the box there. He watches as Castiel’s eyes widen questioningly. “Marry me, Cas.”

 

Castiel stares at the box in his hand and feels the world around him fade away until there’s nothing but the two of them. He’s aware of the crashing waves beyond them but he can’t see them. He can feel the boardwalk underneath him, but he can’t see it. It’s all Dean, it’s always just been Dean. 

 

 

Which is why he doesn’t even hesitate. “Yes,” he whispers, and then louder, “YES!”

 

“Thank God,” Dean breathe and removes the ring from inside. “It was my dad’s,” he tells Castiel, smiling wistfully as he starts to push it onto Castiel’s ring finger. “It might be a little big.”

 

Yet it’s not, it fits perfectly.

 

“I love it Dean,” he says, glancing from the ring to Dean and then back to the ring. He kisses Dean then, hard, before asking, “What made you come back to me?”

 

Dean chuckles before easing away slightly and digging into the pockets of his slacks again. “Funny you should ask,” he pulls out a crumpled piece of paper and hands it to his fiancé. Holy shit, _fiancé_. He is so not ever going to get tired of that.

 

Raising his brow Castiel unfolds it and recognizes his messy scrawl instantly. “You kept this?” he asks breathlessly.

 

“Of course I did,” Dean murmurs.

 

On that paper is one word and all it took is that one word to remind them that this is where they were always meant to end up here.

 

_Dean and Cas, forever_

Castiel kisses Dean then, underneath the stars with the whispered promise of _forever_ floating between them.

 

 


End file.
